Affairs of Modern Art
by Skylar Tsukiyo
Summary: He's been given a task to complete in exchange for a nice amount of gold. To complete it, he must woo and distract a beautiful woman until she's confused enough to give in to him completely. Well this should be easy work... unless he falls in love of course. Warnings: AU and smut, some mild language.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Welcome to Affairs of Modern Art: An alternate universe dramione. Nothing's too different from original Harry Potter so don't be afraid. Please review.

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Chapter One

Blaise Zabini scanned his parlor room with great disappointment. It held several of his most prized possessions, yet it was the one room in his giant house that he felt was missing something. This particular something would tie the room together completely and every day he didn't have it was a day he would wake up displeased. Fortunately, today would be the change of all that displeasure because a good friend of his was going to rectify everything and get him what he wanted. Or at least that's what so he desperately hoped.

The dark green curtains were preventing the light from coming in but the room was dimply lit by the large marble fireplace. It really was a beautiful place to relax or entertain company, but Blaise couldn't relax knowing that the perfect portrait was missing from his ownership. It was so very unsettling.

He heard the footsteps in the hallway and waited in a black cushioned sofa placed diagonally in the center of the room. When his guest arrived and cleared his throat, Blaise called him over and invited him to take the seat next to him, never taking his eye off the spot on the wall.

Draco sat and followed Blaise's line of sight. He was confused. They didn't appear to be looking at anything, although there was a curved wall light designed to show off a painting, but no painting to speak of. He waited for Blaise to say something to explain his bizarre behavior and went back and forth from staring at the wall to his friend.

"I didn't expect you to be here so early," Blaise articulated. "Who let you in?"

The silver grandfather clock in the corner of the room said it was just half past seven o'clock in the morning. Draco didn't usually wake up until hours later when the sun was well into the heights of the sky. "It was your little girlfriend. She seemed worried about you and now I am too. Your owl seemed urgent. Did you call me over here so that we could stare at the wall? If you did I have half a mind to slap you senselessly. Please tell me you haven't lost your mind."

Blaise shook his head and took a deep breath. "No, I haven't lost my mind. There should be something hanging in that spot but it's missing."

Draco looked back at the wall and raised a brow. "Was it stolen?" It was impossible to get onto the property unless you were expected company so he found it an incredible feat that anyone could steal anything from this house.

"No, nothing was stolen. I need to ask you for a favor, Draco. It's a rather large one and it won't be easy."

"You want me to steal a piece of art for you?" he sighed with anxiety. "I'm no thief, Blaise. Why don't you just buy it and save yourself some trouble? It's not like you're short on funds."

"Draco, please. If I could buy it then I would own it by now. It's not for sale. You don't have to steal anything, but I do want you to get it for me." He stood and got closer to the wall then swiped his finger along it in the shape of a rectangle. "I've thrown a countless amount of Galleons at it but with no such luck. For two years I've been trying to get that painting in this room but the curator of the gallery simply refuses." It was his life's mission to become rich enough to afford to buy anything he wanted. The one thing he wanted was unattainable and that made him want it even more. "It's called 'Stream' by the famous French artist, Ariadne. It hangs in a Parisian gallery owned by the most inflexible woman I've ever met. She is a most formidable opponent. However, I've never been one to give up before. Why should I start now?"

Draco was now even more confused and worried for the man standing before him. "That's fascinating and all but what has it got to do with me?" He knew he wouldn't like the answer yet he still had to ask.

Blaise turned and looked him right into the eye. "I've told you that I want you to get it for me, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you also just said it wasn't up for purchase and that I didn't have to steal it. So how the hell am I supposed to get it for you, and legally?"

Blaise chuckled at Draco's innocence. It was so obvious what he wanted him to do, if only he could open his eyes. "The curator won't sell it to me for sentimental reasons but I firmly believe that she would give to you if you asked under the right circumstances. She _is_ a woman after all, and a very good looking witch. She's not my type really but you should have no problem with her."

He looked at the wall again and blinked at Blaise. "You want me to sleep with her so you can get a stupid portrait hanging on your wall? Really Blaise, that's what had an owl tapping on my window at seven in the morning because it was so vitally important? What makes you think I'm even capable of doing something like that? I romance women from time to time but I'm no Casanova."

"Oh, don't sell yourself so short. It'll be child's play. You will just have to be patient. Add a few potions to speed up the process and voilà, instant success. And I'll be paying you for it, naturally."

Now he was intrigued. Draco couldn't be bothered to do anything for free and what he had just been asked to do was just plain weird. He wasn't even sure it would work but money was money. "How much?"

"Ten thousand Galleons."

Draco whistled at the amount and thought about what he could do with ten thousand golden coins. He wasn't poor but he did hate to spend his own money. If it was gifted to him then that was a different situation entirely. He could have loads of fun with that. "I can't believe you want it that badly. Why don't you just seduce her yourself?"

Blaise shrugged and put his hands behind his back. "She finds me repulsive and morally bankrupt that I would pay so much money for something I should find meaningless. She thinks I only want it to prove that I can get anything I want. Besides, I think she would only hand it over if it was an act of charity."

"Can't you get anything you want?" Blaise was a very rich man and if he expressed an interest in something he would own it before the end of the week. Draco mentally applauded his friend for being patient still after two years for a work of art. He could have just confunded her if he wanted to and saved himself the trouble of dealing with her. He must want it fair and square, well essentially fair anyway…

"Of course I can get anything I want. You're going to help me, aren't you?" Blaise extended his hand to make the deal solid.

Draco got up and shook his hand. "Ten thousand Galleons? Sure, why not?"

"Excellent. You'll have to be star crossed lovers before she would hand over something this valuable. I want her to want you to have it and if you make her happy enough then she should hand it over willingly enough. I recommend using a love potion to ensure success. I don't expect you to have it for at least a few weeks but that's fine. I've waited this long for it. I suppose I can wait a little longer. However, she must trust you completely so play it cool, Draco."

He stepped back and smirked. "Please. Don't I always play it cool?" he asked with a scoff before disapparating to his place.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Bad news everyone, this story isn't writing itself like my other one was. Don't worry; I'm going to try even harder to write it for you.

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Chapter Two

Draco arrived in Paris by portkey and landed in the lobby of a classy wizarding hotel. Just before he left London, Blaise had owled him a set of instructions he would need to follow if this pursuit was going to be fortuitous. Once he gained his bearings he pulled the small sheet of paper out of his rucksack and read it carefully, then stalked over to the front desk.

The receptionist was a medium sized, middle aged woman with her dark brown hair pulled up in a professional bun. She was plump and dull looking and a little weary. The bags under her eyes made it seem as though she'd been dealing with imbeciles all day. "Welcome to the Hotel Cheval à Paris. How may I help you, sir?"

Her tone wasn't very welcoming but Draco excused her for it. He would never know how hard it was to tell people the same information all day and she seemed to be downright exhausted. The last thing she needed was another rude customer. "Yes, I need a room. Something high off the ground if you don't mind, last name Malfoy."

She checked her books, licking her index finger and using it to turn the old pages. Every now and then a wizard from old money would come through and request one of their most expensive suites. He hadn't said that's what he wanted exactly but she knew that's what he meant. "The penthouse in available and there are a few large suites on the ninth floor that would be to your liking. Which would you prefer?" she said in a lazy drawl.

"I'll take a suite for two weeks." He wasn't sure just how long he would be here but he knew it would be a month if not longer. If it came down to it he would rent a house close to the gallery for a shorter commute. "Put it on my tab, will you?"

"Of course, sir, and what an excellent choice. Will you need any help with your bags?" He shook his head so she handed him his key and a mint. "Your room number is nine hundred and nineteen. Thank you for choosing the Hotel Cheval à Paris. Please enjoy your stay, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco cringed and thanked her then took the elevator to his room. He didn't like the sound of his surname when people put it next to a "Mr." It reminded him of his cold and heartless father who never seemed to have time for him. It was annoying but he would have to get used to it since he'll be hearing it for the rest of his life.

The room was exquisite and charming. When he opened the door he loosened the straps on his bag and admired the front room. It was set up like a living room with two couches sitting diagonal adjacent from each other and facing a small fire place. It was nice but he had business to attend to so he resolved to get right down to it. He traveled through the archway into the bedroom and set his things on the bed. He pulled a black hygienic bag out of the rucksack then rushed into the bathroom. It was going to seriously injure his pride, doing what he was about to do, but it was a necessary precaution. His surname was known all over Wizarding Europe and his hair color was even more recognized. The first thing he'd been asked to do on that list Blaise gave him was to "change his godforsaken hair color." Draco chuckled, zipped open the black bag, and got to work with a few vanity potions.

* * *

Hermione Granger had been living with her godfather and his son, Stefan, ever since she was six years old. Sixteen years ago the lives of her mother and father were taken in a tragic accident, and she was sent to live in Paris under her godfather's care. What the accident was, Hermione did not know and at this point in her life she didn't want to find out. It was all ancient history as far as she was concerned. Although when she was younger she would have given anything to know what the circumstance was that claimed their lives, now she was grateful to have Stefan and Papa Louis in her life instead of having a more nuclear family.

She found out she was a witch shortly after her parents' deaths when she shattered several flower vases with her mind. They were gifted to her by friends and neighbors of the Grangers but that didn't matter. Their flowers weren't going to bring her parents back to life.

The first one hadn't been intentional at all. It was merely the result of her concentrated anger on an ugly vase that held even uglier flowers. While Papa Louis was cleaning it up for her she looked at the shattered remains of colored glass on the floor and realized she felt much better about no one telling her anything. She took a look at the next vase and blew that one to pieces as well. Papa Louis noticed her behavior and took her to the side, then informed her that she was indeed a witch, that he was a wizard, and that Stefan was one as well. It was such a shocking revelation that Hermione had quickly forgotten her sadness and anger, and instead became fascinated by witchcraft and wizardry.

Now Hermione was twenty two years old, Stefan was twenty four, and Papa Louis was dead at sixty two. She and Stefan had just come home from the cemetery where they and many other went to grieve and mourn the end of his life. It was the saddest Hermione had ever felt in her entire lifetime. He had been more than just a father figure to her. He was like her role model, her very own dad, despite their lack of blood relation, and now he was gone. The worst part was that they had no idea what killed him yet.

They were seated in the den of their house and looking around at all of Papa Louis's hanging portraits, trying to investigate the conditions of his death. To Hermione, it was quite obvious he had been murdered. Stefan however, disagreed immensely. The French Minister for Magic told them that much when he delivered the news at their doorstep only two days ago.

"Just give it up," Stefan insisted after handing her a glass of water and taking a sip of his own. "No one murdered him. It was just time for him to go, obviously."

Hermione took the water at scoffed at his ignorance. There was no way that it was his time to go at only sixty two years old. "Time for him to go? According to whom exactly? Papa did not drop dead of his own. I refuse to believe it."

Stefan rolled his eyes. "You are being ridiculous. If you doubt me then you doubt the ministry. That's treason, sister dear," he teased. "What makes you think there is a case to solve? He was old and so he died. I will miss him dearly but I am also very hungry. So if you would not mind preparing dinner?"

Hermione shot out of her seat and slammed her now empty water glass down on the coffee table. She put her hands on her hips and glared at this person who was supposed to be her brother. "I certainly do mind preparing dinner! This is very important to me and it should be important to you as well. If he wasn't murdered then there _has _to be a reason, a specific reason, why he isn't with us right now! He was not that old that he should just die of natural causes. There are plenty of people, muggles included, that are outliving him right this second!"

"Hermione, please calm down. I know that this is hard for you but I do not believe that his life was taken from us by another person. I think you are overreacting." Stefan put his hands on her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes in an effort to soothe her.

She lowered her voice and fell into his arms. "I think you are under reacting." This was completely unfair. Every person she knew to be a parent to her was taken away from her by death. She was starting to think she was a bad omen.

"Perhaps I am, Hermione, but people deal with grief in their own ways. You shrieking like a banshee is your way of dealing with it, and me being calm and thinking about my loss on my own is my way. I wish he didn't have to die. I will miss him everyday. But really Hermione…" his stomach rumbled loudly between them. "We were at the cemetery for hours and we had to skip breakfast this morning because of the incoming well-wishers. So if you would please feel like making something for dinner?" His stomach growled again and he could feel the ends of her mouth rise at its comical effect.

She stepped back and wiped the single tear falling down her cheek. "Okay, okay, I'll make dinner for you. But one day you're going to have to learn how to make your own food. I won't always be here to take care of you, you know."

Stefan grinned and ruffled the top of her head. He towered over her with so much ease that he really did feel like the older brother, especially when he got to calm her down like he just had. "If you say so, ma sœur."

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AN:See profile for chapter schedule and news on upcoming stories.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

It was the most flawless shade of chestnut brown that he had ever laid his eyes upon. Should anyone ask him his name they would find it a mere coincidence that he shared it with the heir to the Malfoy household. No one would dare question it. A Malfoy with chestnut brown locks? The thought was so absurd it actually made him chuckle aloud. It was the perfect disguise. No, the Malfoys were too proud to ever change the color of their hair for vanity or any other reason. It was the feeling one received after entering a room and knowing that people knew who you were based on the platinum hue of one's hair that prevented anyone from doing it. Draco had experienced that feeling personally and several times over.

When he first woke up he ran his fingers through the top trusses and marveled at how soft it was. His reflection was surprisingly refreshing and he'd be damned if he didn't keep it this way even after his mission here was over. It wouldn't surprise him if his father wasn't rolling around in his grave this very instant. His mother might have a heart attack and join him if she could see him now, although it would make her one of the biggest hypocrites he ever met. Her hair was naturally brown-black like his aunts Bellatrix and Andromeda, but she repeatedly bleached parts of it so that people recognize her as Lady Malfoy. However, it didn't matter what any of his family members thought about it. Draco thought he looked rather dashing, and more so than usual if that was possible.

His next objective was to go to the art gallery on the Rue de Rome and examine the painting, and the woman, for himself. Blaise had told him that the back entrance of the gallery was an apparition point, one of the many in France as there wasn't much of anything that separated the wizarding world and the muggle realm in a big city like Paris. He had been pleased at the news yet he was a tad let down. Draco had always wanted to try traveling by car but saw no reason to do it at home.

Within the blink of an eye he had arrived in a back alleyway and stepped through the open passageway. At first glance he was mildly impressed. The floors were a polished hard wood and the back walls were all white, so as to not distract from the art hanging on them. The ceilings were high and had crystal chandeliers hanging from them but they were not gaudy and outrageous like most chandeliers tend to be, and their compact size only added to how delicate they looked. If he had heard of this place on his own he might have visited without an ulterior motive or a high sale price. Now he had to locate the portrait in question. It was a wizard's portrait with a running loop of colors dancing diagonally down the canvas like river rapids braiding themselves or salmon jumping over each other.

Draco scaled the corridor until he came across the white card that read "Stream. Ariadne." Blaise mentioned in his note that it would be the most obvious piece as it would be the most unappreciated one. Surely enough he had been right. He was the only one standing around to admire the painting within a two meter radius. It was placed further from any of the art pieces in the room almost like an outcast and Draco instantly identified with it. It was alone at the end of the day just like he was. He stood back with his arms crossed and let his eyes run along the image over and over. It was like an unsolvable puzzle that he couldn't stop trying to decipher. It was no wonder that Blaise was willing to shell out ten thousand Galleons on it. After today he would have to raise his price because Draco almost wanted it for himself, until he noticed the pretty stranger nearby that he wanted much more.

She had dark brown hair and a face that was perfectly symmetrical, only distracted by the head band that was wrapped around her head and fell down her shoulders. He thought her lips were shaded just so with a light pink until he realized that was their natural color, and he had to stop his hand from reaching out and running his finger across the bottom one. They looked soft and plump, nice just like the rest of her skin. Standing next to her made him feel warmer all of a sudden and he wondered just what holding her would feel like. She was ogling Stream with so much wonder and amazement and her eye contact made him think she had a personal connection to it.

Draco turned his attention back to the wall and tried not to stare at her, but it was hard because she was extremely appealing for an art fanatic.

"Attractive, isn't it?" she mused aloud. "I find myself just gaping at it every day and ignoring all his other work here." Her English accent threw him off guard.

Draco couldn't help but agree that she was the attractive one. It took all his self-control not to gape at her. "Ariadne has other work here?" He didn't even know who Ariadne was and he didn't care. He wasn't actually interested but it was too difficult not starting a conversation with her. He wanted to know everything about her and keep her talking and maybe even bring her back to his room.

She squinted at him and looked confused. "Of course he does. The entire gallery, it was his, even the building. He made each piece here."

"I see," he said hiding his embarrassment and clearing his throat. "I thought perhaps it was just this wall section. I haven't gotten a very good look about." Draco took on a more serious tone and acted like he was generally intrigued by his surroundings.

"I'm sorry, I'm being rude. I'm Hermione Granger-Allemande, the owner and curator. I also deal some of the pieces here. How do you do?" she asked as she extended her hand to him.

Blaise never said anything specific about this person he was supposed to chat up other than she was a conquest worth ten thousand Galleons. Her last name sounded hyphenated. Did that mean she was married? Yes, after today he was definitely raising his price to at least twenty-five. She was stunning and very nearly out of his league. Draco would never try to romance a woman like her on an ordinary basis. She had taste, she was exquisite and successful and refined. Women like her were reserved for the long run and he in no way was thinking about tying the knot any time soon. He almost felt bad about what he had to do. Almost... but not really.

He took her hand and shook it gently. Her hands felt so good to touch. "I'm Draco Malfoy. Didn't I hear you say that Ariadne was the owner?"

Hermione let their handshake fall abruptly and nodded her head. This was the fourth time today that someone had inquired about their change in management. It was a mistake to come into work so soon after what happened. "He was. But that was just a false monomer. It was the name he painted under." She was being vague and trying hard to avoid the feeling she had to start crying.

"Ah, clever. I do fancy this piece a fair bit. It's not for sale is it?"

"No, I'm afraid that it isn't. This is the only copy; it's the only one he ever made and the last one he ever made. We'd like to keep it in the house for sentimental reasons." Her voice was starting to betray her efforts of keeping calm but only a little. If he noticed then he ignored it.

"Might I ask the reason why it is so sentimental for the house? Other than it being his last work, I mean."

Hermione turned away from him and intensely pierced the portrait with her gaze. This was the hardest part, telling everyone who asked what was going on, and why only every other piece was for sale and not this one. It could never be duplicated by the original artist so she intended on keeping the one she only had one of. "He made this one for his goddaughter especially. He used to say that this would be how her soul moved under his hand, so much color and movement. It took him a year to finish it because he wanted it to be perfect. It was the last work he'd ever finished actually. We would have more of his finished work but... he passed away three weeks ago." She choked on her words trying not to tell him what she thought about his death. Stefan had scolded her about telling people at the gallery that she thought he was murdered. It raised far too much suspicion and it wasn't very good for business at all.

Draco observed her carefully then reexamined the painting. Now it was clear that twenty-five thousand was not enough. Forty or fifty might be suitable depending on Blaise's response. Not only was his friend's request unconventional but it was completely inappropriate. He selfishly wanted this work of art in his parlor room and he had been arguing with this girl for it for two years now when it was a gift to her. "You're… you wouldn't happen to be his goddaughter would you?" he inquired with high hopes.

Hermione rubbed the chills off of her arms and nodded again. "I am. And that is why it is not for sale."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

In his rage, Draco threw the list of instructions into the fireplace of his hotel room. He knew there would be a catch to this game. There was always some sort of catch in "favors" like these. Blaise had been painting Draco into moral corners ever since they were children. He had gotten used to it somewhat, but what he was asking now severely crossing the line. Not even Draco was that bad. He called Blaise through the floo network and impatiently waited for him to answer.

"What is it? Have you met her already?" Blaise asked eagerly. It had only been a day since he'd sent his friend to Paris. He didn't think that there would be a problem after only twenty four hours.

"Yeah I've met her, you selfish prat! Why didn't you tell me anything about her before I agreed to do this? This is low, Zabini, even for you." Draco did not appreciate being used this way, even if there was a payment involved.

Much to Draco's surprise, Blaise chuckled and then smirked. "Oh, please don't tell me that you've suddenly decided to grow a conscience after all these years. I can't count the amount of times you've lied to a woman to get what you wanted from her. Some of them used to come looking for me just so they could talk to you and ask why you never tried to contact them again. Why is now so different?"

"Shut your mouth, Blaise," he spat out. "I mean to say that ten thousand is not nearly enough for what you want me to do. It was a gift for her and you want me to take it away. Oh, and she's married? I do have some standards, you know. I might not be the most honest of men when it comes to women but knowing what I do now? Well, ten thousand is almost like doing it for free! She's directly acquainted to the artist and more than emotionally attached to the painting. You can't tell me you didn't know that after two years of squabbling with her for it."

"I was unaware that she had a husband. I was under the impression that she was single but I do know just how much it means to her that it stays in her gallery. I don't care about that. His art is that much more valuable now because he's dead. What I was willing to pay for it would have set her for life. Two years ago I saw it in the gallery and I knew that it belonged to me. I asked her for it and she refused, citing that it was for her and that it only hung on the way so that everyone could enjoy it. That's a load of rubbish. Why she places so much sentimental value in an object is beyond me. It is a priceless piece and I would have paid her next to anything for it." Blaise cleared his throat. If he had asked anyone else to do this for him they would have said no right off the bat. He didn't want to shell out any more money but he was desperate and this was a last resort after all. "All right then," he hissed. "How does thirty thousand sound?"

"It sounds like shit. You just said you would have paid next to anything for it."

"So what?"

"So it's fifty or I quit," he threatened.

Blaise scoffed. "All right, thirty five then."

"Fuck you, Blaise."

He sighed and rubbed his temples in aggravation. "If I agree to fifty will you stop complaining and just get it done? I mean I don't want to hear anything else from you until you've got Stream standing by for delivery."

Draco thought about it for a moment and curtly nodded. Fifty thousand Galleons were more than enough but he did want to see how much he could get out of him. "Only if you admit you want it because you can't have it."

Blaise laughed inwardly. "That might be so, but you can't say that after seeing it that you don't find it interesting, or can you?"

"It's not interesting enough that I would want to take it from the one person in the world who deserves it." With that he hung up their connection and paced around the room angrily. He had the amount he wanted so why was he still feeling so upset? It was true what Blaise said: there were a number of times when Draco lied to get a woman in bed but this was different. This was getting a woman in bed to get something else. Maybe his conscience wasn't as clear as other people's but this was the lowest thing he'd ever done. The worst thing he could remember doing was telling a girl that he'd never felt so close to her before. That usually did the trick. Draco had a number of notches on his belt, but perhaps this notch was just too big.

* * *

That evening he returned to the gallery just before it closed to find Hermione and talk to her again. They had spoken a little more before he'd left to cross examine Blaise and she had piqued his interest more than the required amount. He was supposed to get to know her and make her like him enough that she would hand it over willingly. It was possible but it would be hard. He'd seen in her eyes just how much she loved that portrait. _I'll just have to make her love me more._

When he found her she was escorting an elderly couple to the sculpture section of the gallery and warning them that it was almost time for closing. He tapped her on her shoulder and nearly had a heart attack when she flipped around to meet his eyes. She had this scent that was intoxicating and almost indescribable. It was like vanilla mixed with innocence. He was sure that if she got any closer then he would taste it.

"Oh, it's you again," she said with a smile that made him feel even worse about himself. "We're closing soon and I'm about to go home but you can come back tomorrow if you'd like." Hermione appreciated how kind he was to her earlier when she'd insisted that Stream was not available for purchase. He hadn't begged her for it or offered her more for it than it was worth like other people did so she remembered him for it. Before Papa Louis dedicated it to her he told her just how much it would go for and that made it even more special that he was giving it to her. When other people tried to buy it off of her they often went into figures that were too far out of the ballpark and it made her sick. It was the fact that they would probably go bankrupt for something as trivial as a painting that meant nothing to them sent her off the edge. This man was different though. He admired it as innocently as she did and never asked her for anything. She'd gotten the last word on the matter so quickly that it caught her off guard.

"I'm actually here for something else and I was wondering if you wouldn't answer a question I have." Draco found the place he needed to be in order to essentially rob her of her most prized possession. He would be the perfect gentleman and never ask for it. She would fall so deeply in love with him and then make her believe that he was just as enamored with it as she was, then she would hand it over like it was nothing.

"I see. Was there another piece you'd like to buy? I noticed you didn't spend much time here earlier after our conversation. That is the only one not for sale but anything else is available," she suggested. "No wait. There's one in the back near my office that you simply must see. It's no Stream but I think you'd really appreciate it."

He managed a small smile and extended his hand. "Then why don't you show me the way?"

Hermione took his hand and led him to the hallway by her office. There was something there that she'd felt when they touched but she blamed it on the excitement she felt about showing him something new. She was very enthusiastic about art after all.

A set of eyes slowly followed them as they walked but decided to wait a while before approaching.

"Do you not love it?" She was pointing to a shy blue rose not yet in bloom unlike the twelve others next to it. The background was a soft shade of grey and the entire image was shaded rather personally like it had been done with the same pencil-brush.

Draco raised his eyebrows at it to feign curiosity but felt nothing extraordinary for it. He could think of nothing to say. Art was simply not his forte. His first and last love would always be women. It was shallow but true. "What about it made you think of me?"

Hermione gasped as though it were obvious. "Do you not see it? The color scheme, doesn't it remind you of something? And here, look at the lines of grey in between each rose and every petal? They are blue roses, Draco; surely you see why I thought you'd like it." He showed no signs of figuring it out so she spelled it out for him. "They're like your eyes! They remind me of your eyes," she said nervously. It hadn't occurred to her just how intimate that response was until it escaped her mouth. They had only just met and she was admitting to him that she had gazed into his eyes and like what she'd seen. It was rather embarrassing. "Do you see it now?"

"I do see it. You're right. They are similar." Draco wanted to assure her that he hadn't thought her statement was out of bounds but she still seemed a little anxious. "Do you want to go out with me tonight?"

"Excuse me?" she squeaked out. That was the last thing she ever expected him to say. She was just about to ask what it was he meant when her brother interrupted them and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug.

He kissed her cheek then released her, staring at Draco with a hint of wariness. "What do we have here? Is it not time to go, Hermione? I have just led the last couple of people out and the lights in the back rooms have been turned off. Can we help you, sir?" Stefan had not liked the way they seemed to be so comfortable when they were talking. Hermione was in a delicate state right now because she missed their papa so much. The last thing she needed was some _salaud _trying to take advantage of her.

It was Draco's first instinct that this man had not come out of nowhere. He seemed envious and he'd probably been watching them for a while. The possibility that he'd just met Hermione's husband was high in his mind. "I was actually just asking Hermione a question that she's yet to answer. Who are you?" Draco tried not to sound unkind but he was suddenly annoyed by this man's presence and his closeness to her.

"I am Stefan Allemande. Who are you exactly and what is it you wanted to know? I'm sure I could just as easily answer your question." He put his arm back around Hermione and stood tall. His French accent came out very thick because he was feeling threatened, but Draco had a hard time not sniggering at him.

Hermione wriggled out from under his arm and saw the angry electric spark in between the two men and saw fit to intervene. If she didn't then Stefan's body language would certainly give Draco the wrong impression. "Draco, this is my brother, he helps out with the gallery sometimes. Stefan, this is Draco Malfoy. He's a new fan of papa's work." She wasn't very fond of Stefan's possessive behavior one bit.

So they were siblings. They looked nothing alike but still had the same last name. Well, Hermione's name was Granger-Allemande but still, she hadn't said brother-in-law, just brother. And he was acting a little too touchy-feely to just be her brother. "Right, nice to meet you." He said it but didn't mean it in the slightest.

"Likewise," Stefan muttered. "Hermione, could I talk to you for a moment?"

She nodded and asked Draco to wait there while she went in her office with him and closed the door. "What in the world do you think you are doing?" she said quickly. "He's –"

"He is scum and I don't like him," Stefan whispered rather crossly. "Je vois la façon dont il te regarde! Il est mauvais, je le connais! Ne sors pas avec lui!"

Hermione scoffed and stepped away, hardly believing that he had so much gall. "Tu ne peux pas me dire ce qu'il faut faire! Tu n'as pas le droit!"

He had forgotten how virtually impossible it was to boss this woman around. She had a mind of her own, that much was for sure. Stefan calmed down and pleaded with her. "S'il vous plaît, je t'en prie. Ne sors pas. Nous pouvons rentrer à la maison et faire ce que vous voulez, mais s'il vous plaît n'y aller pas."

"Pourquoi pas?" she contested. He was hardly being fair. He did this every time a guy asked her out and she was starting to get sick of it. His begging had gotten old around the third time. Her love life was nonexistent because she actually listened to him. "Quel est le problème avec lui?"

"I am thinking about your safety. You know nothing about him!" He was becoming exasperated. It usually didn't take this much to convince her. "I don't like the look he holds in his eyes when he looks at you. I don't trust him for some reason."

"I know enough about him to go out with him. Calm down about it, he's asking me out on a date. It's not like he's going to kidnap me. I know plenty about him and as it just so happens, I like the look in his eyes when he looks at me." She was trying very hard not to shout as these doors were not sound proof. "You have no reason not to trust him, Stefan. You're being absurd!"

"I cannot help what I feel. I do not trust him and I don't think you should go out with him."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't go."

She had him there. Other than the feelings of contempt he held for the stranger there was nothing definite that would change her mind. "He is a foreigner. What if he _is_ trying to kidnap you?"

Hermione gasped loudly. "A foreigner? He's just as British as I am in case you forgot! How dare you say that? How can you even think that?" She didn't give him time to answer and whipped past him then grabbed her handbag and slammed the door in his face.

"Hermione, please. You know I didn't mean it that way. Je suis désolé!" he shouted apologetically. However it was too late. When he opened the door back she was far down the hall with her arm wrapped around his and he felt furious. She was going out with him out of spite. If he hadn't stepped in then she might have rejected him all on her own.

* * *

AN: Sorry, my french is a little rusty.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

They went out despite her brother's urgent wishes. His knowledge of the French language was seriously lacking but he understood tones just fine. Stefan did not like him and Draco could not care less. It wasn't his job to get Stefan's admiration and on the plus side, their disagreement put Draco in good favor with Hermione. He had to admit it was fun not being the bad guy publicly.

When he walked her to her door step he had to fight with himself on whether he should kiss her good night or not. They'd had a nice enough time and she obviously enjoyed his company but he didn't want her to think he was after her for her body. If he kissed her then he would have even more difficulty stopping and it would be awkward to see her again. He had settled with a peck on her hand and that seemed to please her perfectly.

His plan was to see her a few more times and then begin brewing Amortentia which he would slip into her wine. He didn't want her to become too obsessed with him so he would have to send for an anti-catalyst in London from a potions master he could trust. If he was lucky then he wouldn't need the love potion at all but he seriously doubted that. No man would ever take the place of that portrait otherwise. To be safe Draco sent an owl to London for the ingredients of Felix Felicis and Amortentia. On the same day as their wine date he would take a sip to ensure his luck. He didn't want to take any chances with this because he would never get another one if he slipped up.

There were a variety of ingredients currently in his possession. He had enough to make Amortentia that would last him a month and enough Polyjuice Potion to last two months. Fortunately he was good friends with the owner of an apothecarium who never questioned his motives. Draco had been a fan of potions since his first lesson at Hogwarts. It didn't hurt that he also had a natural talent for it.

A knock on his door brought him out of his reverie. He was sitting in the front room brewing more dye for his hair but with a flick of his wand he allowed his unknown visitor access. There were only a few people that knew he was staying at this hotel so he knew it was no one dangerous. "What are you doing in France?" he asked right away.

"I came to see you," she said timidly. "I thought Blaise was joking when he told me what you're up to but by the look of things I'd say he was telling the truth. Why on earth is your hair brown of all colors?"

"Don't be daft. If I didn't change its color then I'd be recognized."

"So she knows you by a different name?"

Draco shook his head and continued to stir. "I told her my real name. It's my real hair color I'm worried about. She doesn't fancy overly wealthy men."

Astoria huffed and crossed her arms. "Then what difference does it make? There's only one Draco Malfoy."

"Correction: There's only one platinum blonde Draco Malfoy. She doesn't suspect anything. If she did then she wouldn't have agreed to go out with me again."

"Draco, I beg you to reconsider. What you're doing is wrong for so many reasons. Imagine how she would feel if she found out what you were up to."

"She isn't going to find out," he said very sternly. "And you certainly aren't going to tell her or anyone else for that matter. It's none of your business what I do anymore, Astoria." A few years ago he had genuinely dated her but she broke up with him because he wouldn't commit to her alone. He was seeing other women but her most frequently. He thought that had been enough since she knew at the beginning that he wasn't into serious relationships.

"So you feel no guilt about doing this? There's nothing I can do to change your mind?" Astoria had been the only girl that Draco dated but never slept with. She was holding out for that day when he told her that she was the only one. She broke it off after he told her that that day would never come.

"I think you already know the answer to that question. As for your second question, we could shag but it wouldn't change my mind." She seemed offended by his statement but he shrugged it off. "Not one bit of this concerns you so you might as well go home."

"Not without you," she persisted.

"That isn't happening. I'm already too far in to stop now."

"What makes her so different that you can't leave her hanging without an explanation like you do all the other girls you see?" Astoria felt that oh so familiar pang of jealousy in her heart at that moment. It was the same feeling she had whenever he went out and didn't come back to her when they were dating. He would stay out for the night and in the morning he came home smelling like another woman. She was never angry with him for it. She knew what she had signed up for but she did envy the girl that got to spend the night with him while she was in their bed alone. "Don't tell me you actually have feelings for her." She was happy and sad about the prospect all at the same time. If he was showing true emotion for another human being after all this time then it didn't matter that he had to resort to degenerate behavior to do it.

"No," he said all too quickly. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I just met her a few days ago and I've only seen her once since then. I haven't even slept with her yet. The only feeling I have for her is mild interest as a person."

Astoria shook her head at him. "No, I think you're lying to yourself. You _do_ like her to some degree stronger than usual or you wouldn't feel the need to explain yourself. Draco please, I implore you to stop this foolish conquest and come home with me. Blaise hasn't paid you yet so he'll have no hard feelings if you change your mind. He could always hire a thief to –"

"He could not hire anyone to steal it. He'd be the prime suspect if he did. He's been dogging the poor girl for over two years. If it went missing they would lock him up and interrogate him at the Ministry with a full bottle of veritaserum. Do you want your sister's boyfriend to end up in Azkaban?"

"Of course I don't! It doesn't matter to me if he gets the stupid painting or not. You matter to me, Draco! I just want you to really think about this. You're better than this, I know it."

Draco ignored her pleas and dipped his wand into the potion before muttering a spell to apply its effects into his hair. "There, now it's perfect. You know I just might keep it this way when I'm done here. Of course I might not. The Prophet will have way to much fun destroying my character if I do."

Astoria couldn't stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks and stood up immediately to leave him. "This isn't you," she quivered softly. "This is not the Draco I fell in love with." She let the door slam and hoped that anything she'd said would change his mind before it was too late.

* * *

AN: See my profile for more story ideas. I'm working on the next story now and it should be up not long after this one is finished.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The very next time Draco took Hermione out he made sure to have her meet him somewhere where they wouldn't have to see her brother. Astoria's last words to him were still ringing unpleasantly in his ears and they were bothering him to no end. He hadn't done or said anything different from back when they were dating. He felt he was still the same person. Draco hadn't intentionally made Astoria fall in love with him and it was rude for her to think otherwise. There was no way she was actually smitten with him; it had to be the idea of him, or what he had the potential to be. Astoria simply had unrealistic expectations of him. Either way, any confrontation with the French git would have sent him over the edge and he wouldn't be held responsible if he threw a fist. She obliged him his request and they met at the Avenue des Champs-Elysées so she could show him around.

He couldn't help but notice how lovely she looked standing there and waiting for him in an aqua blue summer dress with a dark blue ribbon tied around her midsection. She had her hand on her forehead to keep the sizzling sun out of her eyes and she reminded him of a model on the cover of a magazine. Hermione always looked so stunning whenever he saw her and he applauded her for looking so good. She had a natural beauty that he'd never seen in any of the other girls he'd dated casually. It was a nice change of pace.

When she saw him approaching her face lit up and her smile reached him in a way that he didn't know was possible. His throat felt tight all of a sudden and his heart started to race. Her smile was probably one of the most amazing things he'd ever seen, but he would never admit that out loud. She took his hand in hers and began to stroll down the street like it was no big deal and he had to admit he was nervous. The last time he ever held a girl's hand like this was back in his childhood and the girl had been his mother. He traced that memory and found he hadn't held a girl's hand since he was three years old, and your mother hardly counted as a real "girl," she's your mum after all.

She was talking to him, ranting about something in both French and English but he was finding it rather difficult to pay attention to the words coming out of her mouth. The way her lips moved when she spoke made him feel aroused and he felt driven more than ever to kiss her. That would be rude and it was likely to earn him a slap in the face if he just smacked on kiss on her while she was in the middle of a sentence. Then again, this was France and Paris no less. Still he decided to wait and forced himself to hear her.

"Do you want to go in there?" Hermione asked as she pointed to a hat shop not too far from them. "I think I will wear one today after all. The sky doesn't seem to have many clouds today and I don't want my shoulders to burn from the sun. It's all right if you don't want to shop with me," she added quickly after sensing what she thought was hesitation. He kept looking at her and then again at the store and she couldn't read his expression.

This was one of his fantasies come true. All his life he'd wanted to take a girl shopping for the opportunity to shag her senseless in the dressing room just behind the curtains. Of course, he knew the chances of that happening were slim to none but it didn't matter. She was giving him a golden ticket; letting him sit that much closer to that forbidden desire. It wasn't as if he could suggest that a girl go to the local stores with him. They might think he was a poof, or a poof in denial for sleeping with them. There wasn't a man alive that he knew that would admit to enjoying taking his girl out on the town so she could spend all of his money while he sat on a cold bench waiting for her to decide between the black shoes and the blue ones before just buying both. She was still waiting for his response but he didn't trust his voice right now. Instead of talking he led her into the hat shop and took a look around with her.

"How about that one over there?" she wondered more to herself than him. "The ribbon on it matches the one around my waist and it would give me a little shade." She let his hand go and tried it on.

He instantly felt her warmth leave his hand when she released him but the way she mused aloud was entertaining. Draco hadn't known there were so many sides to this girl. She loved art and music but still enjoyed being feminine, she was kind and honest but wasn't afraid to stand up for herself. That much had been clear when she told her brother off for calling him scum. "I think it looks nice. You should buy it."

It was a nice fit and she was comfortable in it. Hermione took it off and flipped it around to see the price tag; that wasn't so comfortable. She almost gaped but remembered her company then slowly put it back on the rack.

"What's wrong with it? Is there a stain?" He was concerned because the light in her eyes had drained a little and it made him want to fix whatever made her feel so down.

"There's no stain," she said gloomily. "I can't afford a hat like that right now. Papa's funeral took quite a lot of money out of the family funds and his loss of income is starting to hit us. People aren't as interested in his old art as much as they used to be so it'll have to wait for another day."

Draco was confused. He had been under the impression that an artist's work was more valuable after his passing. Why the opposite was true here had bewildered him. "People aren't buying his work anymore?"

She shook her head no and moved along the store aisle. "Don't worry, it's only temporary. His art isn't very famous here in France but as soon as word gets out in Greece and Italy that he's… passed… there will be plenty of eager buyers. Ariadne is a Grecian name and a lot of his influences were Italian based. He studied art in Italy for most of his life." It was a real shame. She really did like the feel of the straw sunhat with the dark blue ribbon on top on her head.

"What else do you like here? Maybe you could find something else," he suggested with an even tone.

Hermione shrugged and scanned the store with a flicker of hope. Perhaps there was something else out there for her, something cheaper. With a heavy sigh and a longing glance at the sunhat, she gave up. Nothing else took to her as well. When she turned around to return to Draco's side she found that he was no longer in the same spot and neither was her dream hat. He was over at the register and handing over some muggle money to the cashier. The cashier put the hat in a box and Draco signaled for her to catch up before waltzing out of the store. _Did that really just happen?_

Draco presented the hat to her and held onto the box as they walked further down the avenue.

"What… why did you do that just now?" she sputtered. "I didn't ask you to do that for me. I mean you didn't have to do that." No one had ever bought her anything before besides Papa Louis and Stefan. Hermione had no idea what to say and she wasn't even sure if taking it was appropriate. "I mean… thank you. It's a wonderful gift but I can't accept this knowing how much it costs."

"Why can't you?" he asked simply. "Think of it as a birthday present and we can call it even."

"Even? Why would it be even? I didn't get you anything for your birthday and mine isn't until September. That's three months from now." She was trying to keep up with him but his strides were long and confident. The crowd was beginning to come in between them when she felt his hand grasp hers and pull her next to him.

"That's not true; you did get me something for my birthday. It was last week on the fifth; a very nice gift too, and it seems that I've yet to thank you for it." He had them standing out from the walkway so no one could bump into them and they were at the entrance of a big alley.

"What was it that I got you then?" He hadn't mentioned anything about his birthday before and she was scanning her memory to find out if she had missed it accidentally. He was acting mysterious and they were suddenly very close to one another. Hermione could feel his face inching closer and closer to hers. She wanted to move closer to but her nerves had made sure that in this moment she should be frozen in her spot.

"I had the pleasure of meeting you of course. You even let me take you out to dinner afterwards."

"That day was your birthday?" she asked breathlessly. "I hadn't known. You should have said something."

"Well now you do know," he shrugged. With that said, he dropped the hatbox and gladly descended his lips onto hers, not caring about the wolf whistles or catcalls. Kissing her felt good. It felt really good. So good in fact that he didn't mind it when their foreheads touched and the brand new four hundred euro hat toppled off of her head and onto the ground. The tickling sensation in his stomach had multiplied tenfold and they were so close that he could feel the butterflies flying in hers. He brought her face into his hand and moaned a little when she fell gracefully into his embrace. It satisfied him to know that she'd been thinking about this moment and wanting it to happen just as much as he had.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Hermione could still feel her heart beating through her chest after Draco dropped her off at home. This was the first time in her life where she'd had such an instant and spontaneous connection with a person other than her Papa Louis. When they kissed she let all her inhibitions go and allowed herself to just melt. It was insane how good it felt to be in his arms when she hardly knew him. She'd like to blame it on the fact that the romantic part of her life had always only just been alive because of Stefan's over protectiveness, but she knew that even if her brother hadn't scared everyone away she wouldn't have gotten that far with anyone else. Something invisible just pulled her to Draco and Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about it yet.

She hadn't been alone for very long when there was a knock to her door and she opened it anxiously with a hope that he had come back so they could snog like horny teenagers. When she saw no one there her face fell and she looked down. A crooked brown stick about as long as her wand with a single green leaf hanging on it was lying on top of her welcome mat. She picked it up slowly and made her way back into the house, her head full of questions and hoping that the note attached would have some answers. It was a rectangular piece of paper folded in half with only three words written on it: _place in water._ She was confused as the leaf looked like it was giving up for any hope of resuscitation the way it dangled pathetically on the stick. Regardless of its appearance she filled a thin glass vase with water and dropped the stick inside. At first nothing happened, and she was just about to give up when leaf had transfigured into a vine that wrapped itself around the length of the stick and then a blue rose blossomed from the vine at the top. It was the most passionate display of affection that she had ever received from anyone besides their kiss earlier. Hermione smiled as she admired the rose's tallness and its exceptional beauty. "That settles it," she said to herself. "He's nearly won me over and we've only had two dates."

"Who are you talking to," Stefan grumbled after reaching the bottom of the staircase. Hermione had been gone all afternoon and it was safe to assume she was with the foreigner. He failed to notice that the smile on her face dropped when he entered the room and pointed to the rose impatiently. "What is that?" he spat out.

She rose out of her chair and started getting ready to make dinner. For a moment she forgot that Stefan was home. Now her mood would be ruined by his negativity. "It's a token of his affection. What do you think it is?" Draco and Stefan just didn't click well. It hurt her to know that the man she was falling for and the man she came to know as her brother after all these years wanted nothing to do with each other.

He grunted, picked up his guitar and swung it around on his back with the connected strap. "I'm going out for tips in town square," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"What about dinner? I've just started making it and it won't take me very long."

"I'll be back in an hour or so, just put mine away for the night." He sauntered out the door and let it slam shut. They hadn't had a proper conversation since that night at the gallery when he begged her not to go out with the foreigner. His opinion was still the same in that the man was not trustworthy. There was something weird about him, that much Stefan knew and he could feel it in his gut that something was amiss. He tried to convince her a few more times after then but she wouldn't hear any of it. The way he made his sister smile was nice but all men were nice on the way there. After reaching their destination they turned into real monsters, casting the woman aside like she was nothing and moving on to the next one. He didn't want his sister to be one of those girls who had a broken heart because she wasn't careful but she refused to see reason. True, he had said the same thing about each man that approached her, but the French men that asked her out were different in a way that it was clear they wanted her for her feminine curves alone. There was something about this guy that felt very strange, like his intentions were even more dishonest than the other men.

Now it was all he could do to ignore it since she wouldn't let him warn her off any longer. While he sat on the bench at the park and strummed the strings of his guitar with certain poise, he allowed the several good looking women around him to throw euros in his hat and smirked at them gratefully still feeling sad about what was to come.

* * *

She took to her canvas after eating and cleaning the kitchen. Her strokes of blue oil based paint were angry and quick. Being at home now felt more awful than ever with her papa gone forever and the continuing argument she had with Stefan. Hermione wanted so badly to wake up and have the last two weeks be a wild dream, even if it meant that she never got to meet Draco. If she never got to meet him then she would never miss him. She did feel like her life would be incomplete without him but a Hermione from the past would still be ignorant to all that so it wouldn't matter.

Her current piece sitting on the canvas was something she'd been working on ever since she had dinner with Draco on their first date. She had been looking up into his eyes several times more than she would have liked to admit as their color had astounded her. It was an electric grey with subtle hints of blue and it had instantly become her new favorite color to work with. She was trying to apply it to a body of water in a scene with a crumbling mountain but her anger with Stefan and the amorous feelings she had for Draco kept distracting her.

Her preferred tool this time was a simple muggle paintbrush that her papa bought for her many years ago. In order to make a magic portrait she would attach it to her wand and use both at the same time, but she wanted this picture to stay still for the time being. If she changed her mind she could always charm the canvas later.

Muggle paintings were boring compared to what she was used to but she felt the urge to create one every now and then ever since Papa Louis told her that she was muggle-born. She'd written him a letter stained with her tears when she was still at school at Beauxbatons because one of her fellow classmates had used his knowledge of her blood status to insult her, saying that muggle-borns from England were better off at Hogwarts. At first she hadn't known there was a difference about whether her real parents were from England or that they weren't magic, and Papa Louis told her there really wasn't one. It simply meant that her biological parents had no record of magical talent and neither did anyone else in her family as far as they could tell. The bite about her not really being French still stung her from time to time and Stefan hadn't done well to remind her that she was not a native born Parisian woman. It didn't matter really because her accent and pronunciation were perfect beyond measure. The only reason people could tell that she was from England was that she still had a British accent when she was speaking in English.

Art had been her outlet and coping mechanism for a long time now and she'd been inspired by her papa and the beautiful things he made. It crossed her mind once or twice to make a portrait for him but it was too soon and she wasn't ready to accept the fact that he needed one in the first place. If he was still there with her then he could have told Stefan that he was being ridiculous and that he should support Hermione's decision to have a male companion. He always said that if things went wrong then he could always beat the bloke up later but don't scare them away or she'll grow up and be a spinster with no husband or children.

The thought made her laugh on more than one occasion. Papa had been adamant that she someday take over his gallery and that her children take it over after she was gone. Stefan didn't like the idea of running an operation as large as an art gallery and he liked even less the idea of spending the rest of his life buying and selling pieces of art. His artistic ability lied within the music that he played and that's how he wanted to live. Hermione had once thought it was odd that she should inherit it when she wasn't really his daughter. It didn't bother Stefan and no one else seemed to mind it either so she just let it go.

An hour later she heard Stefan enter the house and then make his way up the steps and into his room without even knocking on her door. They were upset with each other, sure, but she didn't want things to stay like this forever. Unfortunately, she felt that as long as she was seeing Draco then that was how long Stefan would continue to treat her like a total stranger.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Things were moving much faster than he thought they would. She obviously adored him and creating the strong feelings she felt for him had been far too easy. While he wasn't due to have Stream for at least another six weeks he figured that if he acted within the next few times he saw her then he could be done with it and go home in maybe three weeks. Paris was nice but he did miss being at home and he had grown rather tired of retouching his hair with color every couple of days.

The real reason he wanted to make quick work of it was because of the effect she was beginning to have on him. If he stayed there to romance for much longer then he would become attached and then he'd be in trouble. He was well past liking her. She was great in so many ways that it was hard not to fancy her a little. He had sent her the transfigured flower on an impulse. He was not a regularly impulsive person so the action scared him a tad. Draco wasn't that far from caring about her and that simply wouldn't do. He felt a little weird about doing this for Blaise in the first place before he'd even met her, and now the more time he spent with her the more adorable he found her. He wouldn't be able to go through with it anymore if he didn't hurry and he so wanted those fifty thousand Galleons.

The Amortentia would be ready in less than a fortnight and he had received the Felix Felicis a few days ago. All he had to do was take her out a few more times, make her feel really special, sleep with her if the mood is right and then essentially poison her into loving him unconditionally. That's when he would ask her for Stream as he found that women could never say no to any request he posed after they had spent a night in bed with him. Besides, it had been three weeks since he'd shagged anyone and if he didn't try to with her then this whole conquest might as well have been a waste. Draco had never bought gifts for his past female counterparts, not even Astoria. It was almost mandatory by his standards that he should try something more serious with her after pulling out his wallet.

Thinking back, he probably should have gotten Astoria to sleep with him before she stormed out and verbally slapped him in the face. Maybe then he wouldn't have such a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. This was probably the longest he'd ever gone without shagging someone and he wasn't enjoying what it was doing to his body. Something internal had told him that he shouldn't try to romance any other girls while he was in Paris and then he'd gotten an owl from Blaise demanding that he didn't romance anyone but Hermione or their agreement of fifty thousand would easily shrink back to ten. It was just as well. He couldn't afford a dramatic scene in which he was slapped and risk losing the money promised him. He had no idea what he was going to do with it so it would most likely sit in his vault at Gringotts until he thought of something.

* * *

A few days later, Draco met Hermione at the gallery on a very rainy Saturday afternoon. He had planned to take her out somewhere like the park or the summer carnival but the weather refused to permit any outdoor activities. They settled for roaming the empty corridors of the art gallery and admire pieces of her godfather that she had yet to put out on display.

"So how much longer do you think you'll be in Paris?" she inquired.

Draco shrugged and took her hand in his as they walked down the hallway of the gallery. "How long do you think I should stay?"

Hermione smiled shyly and shook her head. "I mean it, Draco. What brought you here in the first place? Did you have business here or was it for pleasure?"

_A little bit of both actually._ "Would it be too cheesy if I told you that you were the reason I came here?" It wasn't a lie. He had come to Paris to seduce her out of her most prized possession. She was the only reason he was there but she didn't need to know the circumstances. "I could feel you calling to me all the way from England and I had to come and hear your voice and see your face for myself."

"I give up," she sighed. She could never win when he acted silly like this. "At least tell me before you go. I like spending time with you. Actually, I really like it and I don't think I'm ready for you to leave just yet."

Draco smiled then kissed the backside of her hand and smirked on the inside when she blushed. He had so much power over her that it made him a little giddy. "What if I didn't leave? Or what if you went back with me?"

"Don't be silly. I can't do something like that. There'd be no one to run this place. And you can't just uproot your life just to stay here with me either. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you changed your mind one day and blamed me for making you move." She couldn't tell from his tone if he was joking or not. He couldn't be serious but she honestly wasn't sure.

"I know," he said humbly before kissing her hand again. "I just wanted to see what your reaction would be like if I said that. You're very cute when you are anxious. I came here for pleasure, to answer your question."

She lightly hit him in the chest with her free hand and sighed again. Their days were numbered but she didn't know by how much. She was falling for him and watching him go without knowing when she'd see him again was torture. Long distance relationships were doomed to fail almost always. It was then that she came to a sudden revelation. If he was going to head home then she wanted to give him something that he wouldn't forget; something that would remind him of her when he looked at it. "There's something I want to show you."

"I thought you were already showing me something," he stated with a furrowed brow. "These here on this wall are quite nice, by the way. I've always loved watching the leaves fall in autumn." He was referring to the seasonal pieces in long rectangular frames that her godfather had done while he was touring the French countryside in his youth.

"Come with me to my office. It would mean a lot to me if you saw this," she pleaded.

He couldn't say no to her when she was like this. Actually, he found he always had a hard time refusing her of anything and that he had yet to want to refuse her of anything. It was a sign that he need to speed up the job and get it over with before he gave in to her charms completely. "All right, lead the way then. You know I don't know my way around this place. It looks much smaller on the outside."

Hermione chuckled frivolously. "That's because it is much smaller on the outside. There's an undetectable extension charm on the building. It's also hidden from muggles so that they don't enter by accident. Half of the art here moves; don't you think they'd find that a little strange?" she asked as she gleefully led him towards back of the establishment.

Once they entered her office she let go of his hand and scurried over to her desk. She withdrew something from underneath it and hoisted it up on its side. It looked like a canvas but the actual image was covered with a white sheet. "I made this for you last week after you bought me that hat." Her cheeks were a little red but she pushed on with her introduction. "I thought you might like to have it after you leave so you can think of me when you see it."

"You didn't have to make me anything. I told you it was a birthday gift and that you shouldn't worry about it."

"I know that, but my birthday is months away and I felt wrong for taking it without getting you something in return. I enjoyed making it."

"All right, if you insist. Well what is it? Go on; take the sheet off so I can appreciate it properly."

Hermione revealed her painting and whisked it around so he could see its front, then placed it up against the wall. It was the mountain scene with the lake that had the same colors as his iris. The tip of the mountain was covered with melting snow and there were cherry blossoms along its side steadily blooming for spring's arrival. The waters were sparking as the ice melted and floated to the edge of the lake. It was the most peaceful thing Draco had ever seen portrayed in a work of art. Spring was on its way.

"It started out as a simple muggle picture but I couldn't resist bringing it to life. That way I could watch as the scene unfolded right before my eyes. I thought you might like it better this way as well," she said sheepishly. "I've never published any work for public viewing before and you're the first person who's ever seen it. Do you like it?" she asked desperate for his approval.

Draco grinned and raised his left eyebrow. "It's beautiful," he almost whispered as he sauntered over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "Just like you. I love it."

His gentle words vibrated in her ear and she could feel the fire in her lower abdomen fuel up again. Every time they touched she became extra sensitive and weak at the knees. The soft baritone of his voice made her feel so flimsy and pathetic, but in a good way. She wanted him to take her right then and there although she knew it would never happen that way. He was a complete gentleman even when they were alone. The way he's slipped his arms around her was the first intimate move he'd made, much to her disappointment. Her desire for him was so strong that Hermione wanted him to rip her clothes and lay her down on the desk. Each night before bed she would fantasize about him and how wonderful a lover he just had to be and Hermione would not be satisfied until at least one of her fantasies came true.

She suddenly felt a chilly sensation around her neck and panicked a little before realizing what he was doing. He had placed on her a very dark chain with an emerald pendant that hung at the base of her cleavage. Her eyes widened at its extravagance and she turned around in his arms. "What's this?"

He kissed her quickly on the lips and held her tighter. "It's something for you to remember me by."

Hermione gasped and vigorously shook her head. "No, no, I just gave you something to repay you for the last gift you got me. You didn't have to get me anything anyway; I have the hat remember?"

He kissed her again but this time let his lips linger on hers before pulling away. "It's for you. I won't take it back so you have to promise me that you'll wear it even if you think it's too much."

Hermione was at a cross roads. She wasn't used to being pampered. It was usually a turn off for her when men boasted at how much money they had. Then again, he wasn't really boasting was he? Just showing her how much he loved her, right? He treated her like a lost princess and while she wasn't exactly uncomfortable she wasn't really all that comfortable with it either. Nevertheless, it was a very nice necklace and she did like the way it looked on her. "I'll treasure it always," she whispered in breathless anticipation of their next kiss. "I love you, Draco." She rose up on her tiptoes to enclose the space between them before he could say anything and moaned with pleasure at the entrance of his tongue in her mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair and rubbed her chest up against his while his hands roamed around her back.

This was the intense snogging session that she'd been craving for over a week. She hadn't known him for very long but she didn't care about that because she wanted this man to make sweet love to her as many times as possible before they had to separate. Besides, she was a grown woman now and this was their third date. She'd heard of women giving it up to a man much sooner than that and doing it purely out of lust in lieu of love. What she felt for him could not be measured by how much she knew about him or how long she'd been acquainted with him. Hermione was undeniably in love with him and nothing else mattered as far as she was concerned.

He broke away from her and gazed into her eyes. They were filled with hope that he might say it back, and who was he to deny her the pleasure? "Hermione, I… I love you too."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Draco had slipped up. Telling her that he loved her was a huge mistake but it wasn't as if he could just leave her hanging. He was pacing the floor in his hotel room and scolding himself for what he'd done. His timing was awful. He knew he should have waited before giving her that necklace. Had he known that it would have prompted her to spill out the "L" word then he would have saved it for another day. He was in too deep now and his only choice was to administer the Amortentia as soon as it was finished. He had three or four days and then his business in Paris would be conplete.

When she'd said it to him his first instinct was to say it back. But that didn't mean anything, did it? It was probably just the fact that he had been in character with her for so long and he was getting too used to it. There was no way on earth that he was in love with her, he simply couldn't be. What was to love about her, really? He didn't love her smile, or the glimmer in her eyes when she looked at him, or the sweet sound of her voice when she spoke while they were alone. He didn't love any of that. It was just a very strong admiration. Her beauty was so offsetting that it caused him to do something that he ordinarily wouldn't have.

Her gift to him was propped up in the corner of his room and he would look at it every couple of minutes not knowing how to feel. He had taken it with him when he'd left her office but now he wished he'd left it somewhere where it wouldn't make him feel like an arse. She had taken her time to create something that wonderful for him and he was trampling all over her in return. They had only known each other for a little over a month so how could she love him? And how could he love her back?

Draco forced himself to believe that he'd said it so as to not ruin the mission. If he didn't say it back then there was no way she'd let him have Stream, let alone get in bed with him. Yes, that was it. He'd done it to get the painting and that was it. Despite the strange tingle left on his lips after he'd said it, he knew with every fiber in his being that that was the sole reason. Well, he tried to know that that was the only reason but he was having a very hard time. The only people he had said those words to were his mother and Astoria while they were still at Hogwarts so that she would get together with him. He hadn't ever said it to her again though. He supposed that when the time came he would have to wipe a few traces of her memory so that she wouldn't come chasing after him after he returned to England. The whole thing was a bit of a mess and there was little he could do to fix it.

Of course there was a good side. Since she already loved him there was little need to use the brewing Amortentia. He would still use a little for good measure and the liquid luck as well, but he was happy knowing that his odds of success had now doubled.

His plan was to invite her over to his room at the hotel and slip a little of the love potion in her red wine before asking her for the painting. It would be quick and much easier to do it in a setting that he could control. If they went out then there were too many variables and he wanted more than anything to get it done before he did something else to fuck it all up.

* * *

"Have you heard nothing that I have said to you?" Stefan scolded. He was sick of having to explain this to her. She was being reckless, hanging out with the foreigner and telling him that she loved him. It was all complete madness and he would not stand for it any longer. "You do realize what it is you have done, n'est-ce pas? He will use your affections for him against you and you will end up alone after he takes your innocence and abandons you. He is not going to stick around to see the damage that he will inevitably cause!"

He had been shouting at her bilingually for the past hour, trying once again to convince her that she was blind as to what kind of man her Draco really was. Hermione was sitting at the kitchen table still loving the vibrant blue rose that he'd sent her. His romantic gestures alone were enough to sweep her off of her feet, forget about how charming he was or how much of a gentleman he was. "None of that matters, Stefan. Even if Draco leaves tomorrow without a word I know it's because he loves me too much to say goodbye. You're wrong about him in every way possible. He hasn't tried to bed me once, even when I was coming on to him. I mean something special to him, I just know it." She took a nice long whiff of the rose and exhaled slowly. The magic was keeping it alive and their love for each other was what made it so beautiful. Everyday the blossom grew and more buds grew while she slept. Eventually she would have to put it in the ground but for now it would stay on the table where she could enjoy its strange powers of allure while she ate. "I don't understand why you are so worried. So what if I get heartbroken because I'll never see him again? That's fine; it was a lovely summer romance, and honestly he's not that far away. I could take a portkey or even apparate to London."

"Tu n'es comprends pas! It is not the fact that you will never see him again, but it is the fact that he intends to hurt you. I believe that he is after you for something. His eyes, they are very shady."

"You think he's using me?" she snorted. "What does he want that I have? Draco has more money than I do and probably more than half of France. I have nothing to offer him but my heart and he's already taken that."

"It is irresponsible, the way you are acting. I thought you weren't interested in rich men because of how greedy and boastful they are." The woman before him was not his sister. He felt as though he didn't even know her anymore. The old Hermione was cautious and wary and she wouldn't let the devil ever tempt her. "I feel as though you are letting your guards down too soon. What do you really know about him anyway?"

"Oh la vache! Not this again, please. Stefan, I am a grown woman perfectly capable of choosing a suitor. You cannot prove that he is not trustworthy and I know a lot about him. I know I haven't known him long but that doesn't mean I don't know him well." She pulled the emerald pendant out of her shirt and showed it to him. "He bought this for me. Yes, he's rich but he does not boast about his riches and Draco is the furthest thing from greedy, I'll have you know. Maybe I am letting my guards down but isn't that what love is all about? Have you never been in love, Stefan?"

Stefan sighed and relaxed his shoulders. "I get a bad vibe from him. I cannot explain it and all I know is that I wish for you not to get hurt. There are safer guys right here is Paris that would love to have your hand. Why not give one of them a chance?"

"Because you've scared them all away, Stefan! No one here will have me because they think I'm the freak whose older brother will hex them to pieces if they try to talk to me! Even the muggles know not to bother with me!"

Their argument was interrupted by three loud knocks on their front door. It was just as well, Hermione was tired of having the conversation. Stefan's obvious jealousy of her happiness was putting her down but not enough to make her give up what she had with Draco.

She got out of her chair and pulled the door open swiftly. The French Minister for Magic was on the other side of the arch and he was adjusting his hat with worry.

His robes were their usual dark grey with a black stripe of fabric hanging over his shoulders. The Minister's somber tone spilled out as he lifted his hat and put it in his hands. "Hermione, Stefan... I believe that we now know the cause," he said sadly. "May I enter your home unannounced once more?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"What cause?" Hermione asked the Minister. "Do you mean of papa? Have you figured out why he died?" An array of questions were on the tip of her tongue and she was ready to ask at any moment.

"That is precisely what I mean, Miss Granger-Allemande." The Minister's strides into their living room were long and slow. It was painfully unfortunate that delivering this kind of news was one of his duties. He had known Louis Allemande since before Stefan was born back when his mother was still in the picture. She had left because of Louis's obsession with the arts and figured that any child of his would end up the same. Back then it had fallen to the Minister to tell his best friend that his wife had left the hospital and their newborn son there all alone. "We have read his Last Will and Testament and in it there is a statement explaining his early demise." He placed the Will on the table and let Hermione read it.

Stefan was in the corner of the room listening intently to his sister's words.

"'I'm sorry not to have told you before but I was afraid. I thought that if you found out after I was gone that it would be easier to accept. I was told a very long time ago that I would not live to be very old because of the condition I was born with. It is the same reason I could create such beautiful works of art. I was told that one day, my brain would simply fail me and I would not wake to see the next day. It was just after Hermione came into my care that I was told all these things and the people at the hospital told me to cherish every moment I live. I listened to them and I lived much longer than I was expected to. I am happy that I was able to see the two of you grow up and become a pair of the most wonderful people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Hermione, please do not feel pressured to do anything I've asked you. I want you to be happy doing whatever you want. The gallery is yours now, though you do not have to run it if you don't wish to. Stefan, you are the most wonderful son a man could ask for and it is my last wish that you not worry so much about your sister. You are a protective person; take care of her but know that she will not require so much of your protection anymore. Always remember that you both have gifts that should be shared with the world. I love you both more than words can describe and I know you will miss me more than I deserve.'"

The silence in the room was met with an eerie tension. How their Papa Louis knew that things would work out this way was unfathomable. He had always been wise but this was another level of guesswork wisdom.

"What do we do now?" said Stefan. "Is she supposed to sell the gallery and am I supposed to tour the world strumming the guitar for the rest of my life? Why couldn't he have spoken of these things to us before he died?" He couldn't keep his temper away. His father was always doing mysterious things like this and he continued to do it in his death. "I don't believe him!"

"Stefan, please calm down. Papa isn't asking us to do anything. He's telling us that we can do whatever we want to! Don't you see?"

"No I don't see. This is so typical of him to leave without a firm set of instructions. Doesn't he know that we would have done whatever we wanted without him telling us that we can? He's only confused me further."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Stefan... he only wants you to succeed in whatever you choose to do. You don't have to feel constricted or pressured into doing something specific with your life just because he made it seem that was what he wanted for us when he was alive. Whatever you choose to do will be enough." She folded the Will and handed it back to the Minister. "Thank you, sir, for letting us read that. It's given me peace of mind. I was worried that he might have died under more serious circumstances."

The minister nodded and stuffed the papers in the inner pocket of his robes. "You are very welcome, dear. I wish the best to both of you but I afraid I must be going. There are other things I must attend to." He put his hat back on his head and tipped it to them, then showed himself out.

Stefan turned to his sister and scoffed. "Alors qu'est-ce que tu veux faire maintenant?"

"Je ne sais pas."

* * *

Draco was at war with himself. He was stressed about everything going on and unsure about how he really felt. He had let another week go by without him doing anything about Stream, but it wasn't all his fault exactly. As soon as the Amortentia was finished he had owled Hermione and asked her if she would join him for a glass of wine and a little dinner in his hotel room but she had declined stating that it wasn't a good time for her to do anything. For a while he was sure that she might have figured him out but he knew that wasn't possible. He hasn't even mentioned Stream since that day when he met her for the first time. That was five and a half weeks ago.

After he had assured himself that he was safe from her finding out his true intentions, he began to think about what his true intentions really were. Things were going well with the case. She was enamored with him and courting her was the most fun he had had with a woman in a very long time. That was both a good and a bad thing. It was good because of the mission and because she made him feel all sorts of ways. It was bad because there was no way he could carry on a romance with her and she made him feel all sorts of ways. His initial plan was to woo her by use of potions of she didn't seem interested in him and then he could scram out of her life. Doing that now would prove to be difficult since he had indeed become quite attached to her. He didn't want to admit it but it was true. Hermione was a beautiful woman, intelligent, classy and a wonderful snog. It was too unfortunate that he would have to let all that go after he duped her. But what choice did he have?


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

"What are you still doing here, Draco?" The softness of her voice had managed to surprise and soothe him just like it always did. Astoria entered room nine hundred and nineteen after he had allowed her access. She slipped through the door, not bothering to see it close all the way. If she had her way then this conversation would be quick and they would leave the hotel together.

Astoria had come back to Paris one more time to try and change his mind. "It's been six weeks now. You are obsessing over this and it's driving you into madness."

She was right, well partially right anyway. Draco had managed to let another week go by without doing anything. This time he had no excuse for wasting time because he had seen Hermione just yesterday and comforted her about her godfather's passing. He had hugged her and kissed her and caressed the top of her head in an effort to console her. From the outside it looked as though they were a legitimate couple, and for all intent and purposes, they were. It was so bad that Draco himself was beginning to think more and more about her and what he was about to do to her.

"Do you think that if you prolong your stay that it will become easier to rob her?" Astoria asked calmly. "Things are only going to get harder from here on out, and let me tell you why. You are involved with her much more than you'd like to be. Isn't that right? She's in your head, she's under your skin... You should have done it at the first chance you had. Do you know why?" Astoria scoffed and walked over to him. "Because you've unintentionally let her in and she has broken down that wall around your heart that prevented you from feeling anything but lust for a woman. There's no use in denying it. You've grown to care for her and that's why you are still here in Paris."

Draco remained silent and still throughout her little speech. She was spot on. Astoria was always spot on when it came to him. When they were together, there wasn't a time when she didn't know what he was up to or how he really felt despite what came out of his mouth. She was like his conscience.

"I find it fascinating that, after being paid to do something you do on a regular basis in England for free, you can't execute here on this one girl. You break hearts at home like it's your job, and yet you come here and after six weeks you're a different person. I wish I could say that I was the one who changed you. I wish that I had been the girl you fell for."

"Are you done?" Draco was growing weary of hearing her guilt trip him. "I know all that. It would have been easier for me to give her the love potion and get it over with from the start. Well, it's too late now."

"So you are ready to admit...?"

"I'm not admitting anything. It isn't in my nature to... love... anyone. But that's fine. I'm sure I'll get over it soon enough. I was sent here because I have a job to do. I can't stop now that I'm so close."

"Close to what?" she uttered out quickly. "Close to admitting how you really feel about her? Close to falling in love? Or are you still telling yourself that this is about a few Galleons? You can't go through with this, Draco! Love doesn't work that way!"

"And just how do you know how I feel? What makes you believe that I'm in love with anyone?"

"You would have done this weeks ago if that wasn't the case! Stop making excuses for yourself and just be honest. Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love her, that you don't care about her..."

He stood and made a point to look in the opposite direction. "I don't have to tell you anything. Stop making this into something it's not. Right there on the window sill is a love potion. Right here in my pocket is a vial of liquid luck. I'm going to drink one, give her the other one and be done with all of this! I have not forgotten why I came here. I'm just waiting for the most opportune of moments. Fifty thousand Galleons is no laughing matter. I only get one chance to do this and I would rather not screw it up because of something like 'love.' I don't love her. Why do I have to keep telling you that?"

A set of footsteps took his attention away from his anger and Astoria. He knew they weren't hers because she was still standing next to him and her feet weren't moving at all. Someone else had joined their little party and by the sound if their footsteps it was a woman; a sniffling and slow moving woman. He had been terrified that if he turned around to reveal his new visitor, he would be shocked and sad and ruined all at once.

"So my brother was right about you," she said as a fast stream of hot tears travelled down her cheeks. "I came here to surprise you... as an apology for not being able to have dinner with you last week. The door was open so I figured you were expecting me in the back if your mind." Hermione stepped back and let out a deep breath. Stefan had been right all along. What a fool she had been to let a complete stranger in her life and take her heart.

Draco turned around slowly and saw just how much damage his last few words had caused her. He wanted to take her in his arms and rectify everything but he feared that it was too late. If he made any sudden movements now then she would slap him for sure, or worse.

"You really were using me. God, I can't believe how stupid I actually was." She wiped her face with the palm of her hand and let her arm swing back to her side when her eyes replenished the tears. "I really believed that you loved me but you were really only after my father's art. It's been like this the whole time, hasn't it?"

He couldn't bring himself to say anything to her.

"Won't you even try to deny it?" She was really hoping that she'd heard wrong but his silence confirmed everything.

Astoria stood awkwardly by Draco's side, too afraid to speak in Draco's defense. He had done something terrible to this girl, there was no denying that. She watched as the expression on his face remained unchanged and sighed internally as the girl's tears continued to fall.

"Am I really supposed to believe that all of this was an act? You feel nothing for me after all the time we've spent together? I can't accept that Draco!" Hermione was desperate for him to say something, anything really.

It was painful, but he was just as silent as ever and it was breaking her heart further.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Ten days later and Hermione was still crying. The tears had stopped days ago but the wailing was just as hard as it had been on day one. She was beyond heartbroken; she was now a shell of her old self.

The first thing she'd done after finding out that their love had been a lie was apparate and break down in the entrance of their home. It was a miracle that she didn't splinch anything considering how broken she felt on the inside. Crying had worn her out so much that Stefan had to carry her into her bedroom, and when she got there she began to cry even harder. She hadn't had the energy to do much of anything else so her days consisted of her feeling sorry for herself and wondering if something that horrible had actually happened to her.

Hermione wanted more than ever for it all to be a horrible nightmare, but each day she woke up with tear stained cheeks was a day she regretted waking in the first place. Sleeping forever seemed to be the most favorable option. Every now and then, Stefan would come in and try to cheer her up but his efforts were wasted. She wasn't eating much or sleeping much. It had been a week since she got out of bed at all and her hair become increasingly matted with each passing day. Nothing seemed to matter to her any longer.

It didn't hit her that Draco had actually been hired help against her until about three days ago. What hurt the most was the fact that he had never felt a shred of anything for her, not the fact that he'd been hired to take something away from her. All that time they spent together seemed like a giant waste in her opinion. If he had really wanted to take Stream then he shod have hit her with the love potion on the first date. That's all it would have taken now that she thought about it, no questions asked. Now the silly portrait didn't even matter. He could have it if he still wanted it, or needed it rather. He could have all of the stupid paintings.

When she thought about the kisses they shared, and all the other intimate moments, it almost made her want to fight for him. The passion between them, the way he would look right into her eyes... there was no way it had all been an act. She would go through her memory and try to find an indication, any sign at all, that he had been acting. It was the damnedest thing... because she couldn't help but believe that one shred of it was fake even for a second. A part of her praised him then for what a good actor he was, but even still, the looks he gave her simply couldn't have been rehearsed.

Hermione knew that on some level, even if he didn't know it himself, that what they felt for each other had been real. She refused to believe otherwise. It was the one thought that prevented her from wanting to give up hope for the future. She could close her eyes and feel his lips on hers, and his hands on her back. Those things couldn't have been a lie.

That was one of Hermione's major faults. She was curious and had a tendency to forgive people, even when under highly unforgivable consequences, if there was a teeny smidgen of good in them. She wanted Draco to be good. There wasn't a day that passed that Hermione didn't want him to bust down the door and beg her to understand. If he did that and explained what possessed him to do such a bad thing then she would in fact consider forgiving him if he proved himself to be good. Things like that never happened in real life though.

* * *

Draco had left Paris less than a day after he had been exposed. Going home was all he could do now. He had owled Blaise and explained everything that had happened in a very brief letter then checked out of the hotel as quickly as he could.

The trip home had been disappointing to say the least. No Galleons, no Hermione, only a concerned Astoria and a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"I don't think you should be drinking now, Draco." She had come to be by his side in order to prevent something tragic from happening. He had a tendency to drink when he was let down or just feeling low, which wasn't often, and she had gotten used to looking after him after all these years. "You should express how you feel in a sober and verbal manner. It wasn't just about the money, was it?"

"I'm going to take that key back from you," he muttered. Had it really only been about the Galleons? Draco didn't think he would have the prickling feeling in his stomach if he was sore about not getting paid. He was one of the richest people in the country. It wasn't as if he really needed the fifty thousand, he just really wanted it. "Maybe?" he grumbled, after taking another shot and putting his feet up on the coffee table.

Astoria sighed and sat on the couch opposite him. "Why do you have to be so incredibly stubborn? I know that you know how you feel about her. This was more than a paying favor to you, Draco, so just stop denying it! Admit that she means something to you and that you're upset about losing her," she demanded.

"I did not lose her because I never really had her to begin with."

"Oh, shut it. Be a man, Draco. You can't tell me you weren't falling for her at least a little. She looked lovely from what I saw, and she was convinced that you two shared something special, something real! Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so upset after finding out your intentions of taking her art away. Now, the Draco Malfoy I know is a not a very good liar. He starts to yell when he's been found out, trying to cover his mistake with anger. I'm telling you that it is not a good idea to leave this matter unresolved. There may still be a chance for you; go and fix what you've said and done and she just might take you back."

He was silent while he thought about what she said. Was there really such a possibly? If he came clean and put it all on the table, would she really forgive him? He wouldn't forgive her if the tables were turned, but he didn't believe in second chances. What made Astoria think that Hermione did? "I don't..."

Astoria stood and took his bottle of Firewhiskey away, then scurried towards the front door. She knew he would bother to follow her because he knew that she was right. "Honestly... you're really hopeless sometimes! If you won't try to get her back then you should at least apologize."

He said nothing, finding it hard to pity himself when he knew exactly how right she was. She was always right.

"You have to do something about this! Real men don't leave their problems unresolved. That girl means something special to you and I'm going to prove it!" she said as she stormed out.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Stefan placed the tray of food outside of Hermione's door and knocked twice, indicating that he was leaving her something to eat for lunch. They had a system now since she refused to leave the room, or even answer him when he called her.

After two weeks of talking to a door, Stefan had learned not to bother asking if she was going to be all right, or if she needed something. It was a waste of his breath because she never answered. The last time he remembered hearing her voice was right before she left to see the foreigner at his place. She came back in tears and didn't say one word. He could only guess what had happened to her.

Stefan trudged his way down the steps and slumped onto the couch. He wanted his sister back to the way she was: the angelic, intelligent, sweetheart of a girl that he had known and loved since he was eight years old. If she wasn't willing to talk to him and tell him what was wrong then there was nothing he could do until she did. It had been his first suspicion that the foreigner had broken her heart, just as he thought he would and now wanted nothing to do with her.

It killed him to see her, or rather not see her, like this. His eyes roamed around the room, looking for something to occupy his time, when they rested on the flower that sat on the kitchen table. It was the rose that Hermione had received and it looked just as striking as ever. The petals never faded in color and there was a new bud every day that it lived. Quite a few of them had yet to blossom but it was still a sight to see. Magic was keeping it alive and well but Stefan had no desire to have it plague his home any longer.

He stood up and pulled it out of its vase angrily, then stomped out into the front yard. The medium sized patch of dirt by the flagstone path to their door looked like the perfect place to abandon it, and so he threw the rose down and stepped on it with both feet then spot on it. He walked away with a satisfied grin and made his way into the house when he heard a strange noise coming from behind him. The rose was gone but the earth was being drilled by a thin green vine and it was rearranging the patch of dirt. Leaves and thick twigs began to sprout above the ground. Before Stefan could blink twice, he was staring at a nice and thornless blue rose bush and scratching the top of his head. He had never seen magic like that before. It was, in a word, astounding.

He plucked a flower and held it to his nose; it smelled of the lemon and vanilla soap and shampoo set that Hermione used all the time. Roses were not supposed to smell like that. He looked at the place where he had picked a flower and a small bud had taken its place. He threw the rose he was holding down in anger and soon found that it too was growing in the lawn, right next to the first one. Whatever kind of magic this was, Stefan did not like it one bit. He was about to retreat into the house when he heard the unmistakable crack of an apparition.

* * *

Hermione pulled the blankets off of her legs and went to her door so that she could retrieve the meal that her brother had prepared for her. He has been very nice to her these last couple of weeks where he was usually pushy and aggressive. He never cooked or cleaned on a regular basis, so she was mildly surprised when she first opened the door to a hearty breakfast and the keen scent of their tropical cleaning solution for the downstairs floor. He had to have been trying to lure her out because he never did anything the muggle way, but she ignored his feeble attempts and continued to stay reclusive.

After enjoying the deli sandwich he'd made and downed the lemonade, she set the tray down outside of her door and went into the bathroom. She had her own and thanked her papa for making it so that the door led right from her room. It made being a hermit that much easier. She drew some lukewarm bath water and slid inside her deep claw tub after taking off her clothes and tossing them into the corner of the room.

Every day since the incident with Draco she spent about an hour in the tub with closed eyes, trying so desperately to decide what her next move should be. She hasn't been to work in two weeks and she wasn't sure if she had any intention of going back. Walking down those corridors and looking at all that art just hurt her much too much. Every step there would remind her of the time she'd spent with Draco, and each piece would remind her that she was lacking the one person who could make her forget her troubles: her papa. If she could have things her way the. She would never go back but it would be unfair and selfish to ask Stefan to continue doing something that he didn't like. Running a gallery and selling art wasn't easy, and her brother just wasn't cut out for it.

The water was getting a little cold when she thought of what Papa Louis had said in his will. She could close shop, have someone else run the place and do something else with her life. The question was, what would she do?

* * *

"Can I help you?" he asked the dark haired beauty now in front of him. She was tall and slim, and her curls descended past her shoulders. She was close enough that if he reached out then he could touch them, but he wouldn't be so bold.

Astoria nodded and locked her lips. Going right to the source o the problem was all she could do. If Draco wouldn't fix things then she would have to if she ever wanted him to get off the couch and stop drinking. "I was hoping... Well I was wondering, actually, if you would help me sort something out. I'm Astoria Greengrass."

"Stefan Allemande," he said in a low tone. "Enchanté mademoiselle." He bowed then took her hand and kissed it. "What might you need help sorting out?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

"I am sorry," said Stefan, with a slight stutter. "I am not so sure that I heard you... comment dit-on... correctly. S'il vous plaît, explain again." He had been distracted by the way her mouth moved while she was talking, and he hadn't paid attention to a single word she'd said since they sat down in the living room.

Astoria exhaled deeply and licked her bottom lip. It wasn't easy telling a story like the one she had to tell. "Your sister, is she doing well?"

Stefan shook his head and coughed. "Hermione is the opposite of well right now. She has yet to tell me why she is so devastated. She won't talk to me and I just got her eating again. She spends all of her time in her room these days."

"The man she was seeing, he's a close friend of mine and I think if they at least spoke then things would be all right again. Draco is at war with himself even now about whether he should come see her or not. If we only pushed them—"

"No," he said simply. "I don't think so."

Astoria's mouth gaped open at his blunt response. "Won't you even think about it first?"

"Absolument pas! He is no good. He was never any good for her! I knew he was the reason she was in poor spirits! And you want me to help him get her back? What for? So that he may lower her self esteem that much more? I refuse!" He crossed his arms and turned his head to the side, away from her alluring lips.

"Please, Monsieur Allemande, we must do something. I don't know what you've heard about Draco but I can assure you that he is a good man. I've known him since we were children and he can sometimes be misguided. He made a mistake when it came to your sister but I know he didn't mean to hurt her feelings and that he's sorry. Together we can get both of them back on their feet! This whole thing was an honest... mistake." It had been a mistake for Draco to agree to do Blaise's bidding, but it wasn't exactly honest. "He's in love with her. I know it."

Stefan scoffed and shrugged. "What makes you so sure of that? Because you have known him since childhood you know his every intention?" He rested his hands on his knees and sighed. "My sister deserves the best and that man made her feel like the worst she's ever felt in her entire life. If I had been nicer in warning her about him then this never would have happened. I am sorry but I do not wish to help you."

"Please," she begged as she put her hand on his. "I know he never meant her any harm." He hasn't meant her _as much_ harm.

He looked up at her when she touched him and her dark brown irises met his light blue ones. She really was very beautiful, but what she was asking him to do went against all of his morals.

"Please, Stefan," she said again. "Don't you believe in second chances? Have you never been presented with an opportunity to redeem yourself? All I ask is that Draco get that chance..."

Stefan internally cringed. The sweetness of her voice alone were enough to want to make him change his mind, and it made him feel so conflicted. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Why do you want this so badly?" he wondered.

It was a fair question. It was unlikely that a female petition for her male friend after he had purposefully broken a woman's heart. He might not have wanted to right when he did but he would have done it if she hasn't shown up that night. "Draco is my very best mate. I've admired him my whole life but he's always been kind of lost. I want to know... no, I firmly believe that given the chance he would do the right thing. I know him better than anyone in the entire world and I know for a fact that he is in love with her. There was a time when I didn't know if Draco was even capable of loving a person and I see in his eyes how much he cares for her. If you just help me with this then you can get your sister back to the way she was and everything will be all right."

"Tout ira bien, n'est-ce pas?" He paused and placed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It was a bold move and it could have earned him a slap in the face, but then again, this woman was enticing and it would have been worth it. "I will... do what I can. Tell me how I can help."

* * *

_Dear Mr. Zabini, I thank you for your interest in my godfather's work. I want to apologize for the wait. Had I known how much trouble that this painting would cause me then I would have let you have it a long time ago. Please enjoy it as a gift from me to you. Best regards, Hermione Granger-Allemande_.

Draco read the letter several times more to make sure he wasn't imagining what it said. It all seemed like a sick joke, but the proof was in the portrait that now hung on the once blank spot of a wall in Blaise Zabini's parlor.

He had only agreed to come over because he thought it would do some good to get out of the house. He had been a bit reclusive since he had returned to England and he was tired of feeling lonely. Astoria was nowhere to be found and he didn't feel like looking for her. Blaise's invitation owl was more than enough incentive to get him off the couch after a few days of bitter loneliness. When he'd arrived in the parlor room, he was shocked to find Stream hanging on the wall and a large grin on his friend's face.

Blaise handed him a small golden key and patted him on the back in thanks. "You are one slick git, my friend. I thought you were joking when you said you'd aborted the effort. All this waiting and here it is. As promised, that in your hand is the key to a vault which holds sixty thousand golden Galleons. I threw in an extra ten as I'm feeling rather generous. I can actually die happy now."

Draco smirked for a second and let his facial features drop. "I'm happy for you, but did you read the letter? You don't have that picture because of me. She gave it to you as a gift. When did you get this owl?"

Blaise sighed and thought about his response. "It arrived today but I received the portrait late yesterday, in the evening. Daphne and I were having dessert in the bedroom," he raised his brows suggestively. "And she claimed to hear an owl so I checked the post. In reality there were about ten owls. I imagine that it was a heavy trip from Paris."

"Do you want your money back? I didn't get it for you. She handed it over free of charge." He wondered why that was. Hermione loved that painting more than anything and here it was in England like it didn't matter to her.

Blaise shrugged and shook his head. "No, you keep it. You earned it, after all." Draco's expression seemed to be one of confusion so he clarified. "If you hadn't 'caused her so much trouble' then she wouldn't have felt inclined to give this to me. Whatever you did worked just as well as whatever you were planning to do."

"Not really," said Draco in a mutter. "My plans included us parting on a much friendlier note."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Stefan and Astoria were camped outside of Hermione's door, like they had been for the past hour, waiting for her to answer them or at least allow them inside. She had her room warded off so that no one but her was allowed to enter it. It was a minor setback in their plan but they weren't going to give up. They needed to talk to her and sort it all out and the only way to do that was to wait for her.

"How do we know that she's even in there?" Astoria asked in a frustrated time. "I'm starting to think that she's been gone for ages."

"Non, ce n'est pas possible. She ate the food I gave her, see? That tray over there had food on it and now it is gone."

Their little argument was disturbed by the open and close of the large front door.

Hermione trotted up the steps gracefully, but stopped at the top upon seeing her brother and a stranger sitting on the floor in front of her room. The stranger was a woman and she looked very familiar. Stefan and Astoria stood and it was then that Hermione realized just who this woman was.

"You, you were there that night weren't you?" Hermione asked in a dull tone.

Astoria blinked at Hermione and cleared her throat. "I was there. And because I was, I feel there is something you must know about why happened then."

"I don't have to listen to you," Hermione chirped at her. "Stefan, qu'est-ce qu'elle fait ici?"

"Sister, she wishes to speak with you. I believe that what she has to say is important," he said with a heavy heart.

Hermione stared back and forth from her brother to the strange woman who seemed to know Draco. Something weird was going on and Hermione didn't care to find out what it was.

"I really should get back to my room. There are things I most take care of —"

"You will see to those things later. Right now you need to listen."

Hermione sighed and placed her hand on her hip. She was in no mood to do any listening. "What is so important that you have to get in my way and stop me from going into my room?"

Astoria stepped forward and smiled sadly at her. "I know you may be confused about a few things but what I'm about to tell you is all related in some way. It's about Draco."

"I figured that much," Hermione grunted. "Go on, say it then."

Astoria took a deep breath before starting. "A few years ago, I was Draco's girlfriend, in a matter of speaking. He was hardly ever around and he didn't treat me very well. He saw other women while we were together and he would often spend the nights with them instead of me. This went on for a few months, until I got tired enough to say something about it." She paused to see if she still had Hermione's attention. "I wanted he and I to be exclusive," she continued. "And I told him one day that if he didn't stop seeing other people then I wouldn't be able to see him anymore. He told me that I didn't mean that much to him as a girlfriend because he saw me too much as a friend already. We've known each other since we were kids and we never slept together because I wanted us to be exclusive before I gave myself to him. Draco wouldn't agree to that so we broke up. Now, I know him better than anyone and I've known what he was up to while he was here. His plan was to slip you a love potion and then just ask for the silly portrait, which you would hand over because you would be intoxicated with Amortentia. He wanted to have this done before the month of June was out. He ended up spending most of the summer here; do you know why that is?"

Hermione shook her head looked away. "Because he was too nervous?"

Astoria sighed. "In his entire life, Draco has only ever told his mother that he loved her. Whenever I said it to him, he would kiss me and stroke my face as if I hadn't said it. Then, he would change the subject. If he said it to you then it's because he meant it. Draco was stalling. That's why it took him so long to ditch you. He was never one to waste time in the past. He stalled to give you the love potion because he had already fallen for you himself and he didn't want to hurt you." Astoria walked over to Hermione and looked her in the eye. "You captured the affection of a man who was previously unable to love anyone. Congratulations."

Hermione turned away again and crossed her arms. "Nice speech, but none of that proves he really feels that way."

"Oh, no?" She took Hermione's hand and led her into the front yard. "See those two blue rose bushes in your yard? Stefan tells me that those two bushes used to be one rose in a vase. If his fancy of you had ever been a lie then the rose would have died after a day. I can promise you that much."

Hermione swallowed and looked back at the house. Stefan had followed them into the yard and was giving his sister a look. "What do you think of all this? You've been against Draco since you first met him."

Stefan nodded. "Oui je sais."

"And what do you think I should do now?"

He gave the bushes a quick glance and then looked at his sister with sad eyes. "I believe that you should give him a chance to explain, at least."

"Look in your heart, Hermione. You know that it's true. Draco is hurting now because of what you over heard back at the hotel. Another week or so and he would have given up and loved you wholly. He was wavering in his decision to do it because he knew the aftermath would not be pretty and he didn't want to end things with you. He is still in love with you," Astoria preached.

Hermione was confused. She didn't want to end up hurt again and she wasn't even sure if she knew who he really was, or if she could trust him. Draco had had an ulterior motive that involved robbing her blind. How was she supposed to forgive him? "I can't just pretend it never happened."

"You're still wearing the necklace he gave you, Hermione. You want to forgive him just as much as he wants you to forgive him," Stefan said evenly. It was hard defending a man that he had such a loathing chemistry with, but he would do it if it made her happy.

She grabbed the emerald pendant and gasped. Hermione hadn't ever taken it off. That right there was proof that she still felt something for him. "How am I supposed to trust him after that? He doesn't sound like a very good boyfriend. He was awful to you, wasn't he?" Her question was directed to Astoria.

"Draco was awful to me because he didn't really want to be with me. I coaxed him into giving me a chance. You however, have firsthand experience of being his proper girlfriend. He bought you nice things, he gave you this wonderful flower, he courted you as a gentleman... If his intentions were as poor as he wanted them to be then he would have slept with you on the second date and slipped you the potion on the third. Accept the fact that he truly cared for you as a person and that he really did love you. I told you before that he wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it." She went over to the roses and plucked one and watched as another rose bud grew in its place. "Please don't let his idiocy get in the way of you taking him back. You make him happy and right now, he's in his house regretting ever saying that he would take the job from my stupid sister's stupid boyfriend. He's at an all time low. Please forgive him."

Hermione tapped her foot and exhaled deeply. No woman lobbied this hard for a man to go after another woman for no reason, especially when the first woman used to love the man. She had a decision to make and only so many options to choose from. The first option would make both her and Draco very happy, although she might spend the rest of her life doubting his intentions. The second option would have her living in her room unhappily for the next six months selling her art until she sold the gallery out of depression and painted until the world ran out of canvases. Suddenly, a light went off in her head. There was a way that she could get what she wanted and be happy. Trusting him again would take time but she would rather build up a trust with him than spend the rest of her life in regret that she never got him back.

"There is something I have to take care of first, but do you think you could give me his address?"

Astoria's eyes widened at her success and she nodded fervently. Things were looking up and Astoria hoped that they would go back to normal for Draco's sake.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Draco felt like pinching himself. He had answered the door to his bedroom expecting to see Astoria. He had already mentally prepared hisself for her shrieking about how he still hadn't done anything about his spat with Hermione. It had been unnecessary of course, because Hermione was standing in front of him and giving him a very pleading look.

It was as if a jolt of lightening had struck him right in the chest. Seeing her here, in London, in his house, was like nothing he could have ever prepared for. This was one of the happiest surprises he'd experienced in his entire life. The only thing he could get off of his tongue was something dull, and it didn't reflect how he felt on the inside at all.

"I thought you would never want to see me again." He had really wanted to take her in his arms and beg for forgiveness but he didn't know where she stood emotionally and he refused to make a fool of himself for no reason.

"I... I came here because you owe me an explanation," she stammered out. It still wasn't real yet to her either. Coming here had been an impulsive decision. Astoria gave her the address but Hermione hadn't intended on using it right away. "We really should talk, Draco."

He stepped back to let her in his bedroom. When she sat down on his bed he took the spot right next to her. He had to suppress the urge he had to to pull her back and ravage her. Even when she was looking sad, she was a sight to see. She was beautiful.

"You gave Blaise Zabini the painting " he stated. "I saw it just the other day and I was shocked, in a word. I came back here and berated myself for hurting you and doing you so much harm that you would relinquish your most valued possession. I thought it meant much more to you than that."

Hermione let a tear fall down her cheek. She sighed and gripped her knees with her palms. "It's a fake, Draco."

"What did you say?"

"I have him a copy of the original."

"I thought you said there were no copies."

"I made that one myself," she said in a near whisper. "I spent the last two weeks doing it, after you left I mean. It was unintentional. I couldn't think of anything else to do and I was feeling so betrayed."

Draco's chest twisted with guilt and then untwisted with amusement. "He paid me for it anyway, you know." He took to key to the vault out of his pocket and placed it in her hand. "It's sixty thousand Galleons. I haven't touched any of it. It just doesn't feel right."

She felt a cold chill when the little key fell into her hand. Sixty thousand Galleons was quite a lot of money. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Draco shrugged and shook his head. "I don't know. Do whatever you want with it. You worked for it after all."

Hermione lifted her head slowly and tried to meet his gaze. His hair was a different color, but sitting next to her was the Draco Malfoy that she had fallen for. He still felt like the same person. There was only one way to prove if he really was honestly dating her, and that his affections weren't a lie along with his intentions of coming to Paris.

"Draco, I love you." Her tone was as firm as it could be, considering the circumstances. "Look me in the eyes," she ordered.

He turned his head and fell into her amber brown eyes trap.

"Tell me that you don't love me. Tell me the same way you told that girl when I walked in on you and her. Tell me it was all a lie and that you were only after me for these sixty thousand Galleons that you just passed on to me. If it's convincing enough then I'll give you back the money and step out of your life forever."

"What are you trying to prove, Hermione?"

"Just tell me, Draco. Say it and we can be done here."

The room fell silent, as neither person said a word for several minutes. She was waiting for him to give her, what she hoped would be, a way back into his heart. He was waiting for the courage to build up inside of him, so that he could finally admit to himself the one thing he had been denying this whole time.

He took her hands in his and searched her amber orbs for any sign of contempt. All he found was hope and something that looked like burning passion. "Hermione..."

This was it. He was going to end it all with her and tell her that she meant nothing to him. He would tell her that he was in it for the money and that nothing else mattered. She could feel it in her bones. It had been a mistake to come here. When she was in her room sulking and painting she could pretend all she wanted that things between them were real. When faced with the possibility that they were a lie, Hermione began to cry.

Draco wiped the falling tears with his finger then retook her hand. They were warm but jittery. "Hermione. I am completely and utterly, tragically and hopelessly in love with you."

Hermione blinked.

Then she blinked again.

She blinked a third time, waiting for the confetti to pop out and make a fool of her. It had to be a cruel joke, otherwise, why would he confess his love for her like that? But nothing was happening. There was no confetti, no people popping out of hidden places in the room laughing, no anything. There was only Draco staring at her intently, waiting for her to say something back. All she saw in his eyes was a load of the truth, something she had not been prepared for.

"I was an idiot to take Blaise in on a job like that. I know that now. The first time I ever saw your face I was stricken with how beautiful you are. Then I got to know you and I liked everything about you. I still like everything about you. You're perfection, Hermione. When I realized what I horrible thing I was doing, I should have owled Blaise and told him that the deal was off, but I just couldn't. I was too proud and I was angry at myself for getting too involved, and for falling in love with you. I'm sorry, Hermione. I can't tell you that I don't have feelings for you because that would be a lie."

"Draco..." Hermione was dumbstruck. His words were the most romantic she'd heard her. It wasn't often that people confessed their undying love for her.

"Why are you still crying? We can be together now. I'll spend the rest if my life making it all up to you."

"The rest of your life?" she questioned.

He nodded definitely. "That's what you deserve. Please don't cry anymore."

"You idiot," she scolded in a little whimper. "I'm crying because I'm happy. I love you, Draco."

When they kissed, Hermione felt fireworks go off in her head. He tasted just as wonderful as she remembered, and she never wanted to forget what that taste was like ever again.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Hermione had entered his home wearing a long white summer dress with a brown belt around her midsection and a light jean jacket matched with brown lace up boots. Now that she and Draco had made up, the jacket, the dress, and her shoes were on the floor of his room and his hands were caressing her bare torso. All she had left was a mint green bra and matching knickers, and Draco had every intention of removing those in due time.

Draco's clothes were shed as well, save for his trouser shorts. They were on his king sized bed, which had sheets of Egyptian cotton, and they were snogging like there would be no tomorrow. Draco was on top of her with his legs resting in between her own. Her chest was heaving up and down heavily. She felt so comfortable on his soft mattress that she felt like she could stay there forever, kissing him and allowing his practiced hands to roam all over her body. His lips were planting soft pecks all over her face and neck and with each touch she could feel her body getting warmer and warmer. The region between her legs was on fire and she wanted more than anything for him to take her, but she was having an awful lot of fun with the foreplay as was he.

Draco cupped one of her average sized breasts and started kneading it before he unhooked her bra and rubbed his thumb around her nipple. His tongue was on the other breast and he was licking it greedily, sending Hermione to a place she'd never been before: a land of pure ecstasy. He had ignited a flame below her abdomen and she didn't want it to go out.

Her legs were twitching with utter anticipation. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears and wondered if he could hear it considering how close they were. It drummed throughout her whole body with a quickened pace. She felt like she was on fire and she loved it. Each time his tongue rubbed against her bare skin she would let out a soft gasp and he would lick her again.

Her hands were tugging at his hair. Her nails were digging into his scalp. Another moment passed where she moaned breathlessly with her head thrown back and that was when he knew he could take it any longer. He shifted his body up and kissed her fully on the mouth and when he broke it off after several passion filled seconds, she swiped her tongue along his lips and giggled at his shocked expression. This girl was going to be the death of him and he didn't mind one bit.

In the past, his one rule about shagging women had been no kissing while lying horizontally. He never wanted them to get to attached and he didn't have time for foreplay. His past lays had always been meaningless shags where he got his off and didn't care if she was taken care of. Now that he had Hermione in his bed, it was another story completely. He wanted to make her shoot off like a fireman's hose if such a thing was possible. Since he had intentions of seeing her many more times after this, he figured that breaking his own rules about sex wouldn't be a big deal. It would be a much larger deal to not break them. As hot and heavy as things were with her, he knew didn't want anyone else and he knew he wouldn't ever want anyone else after he did the deed with her. Sleeping with a woman had never affected him this much before. The connection was there and he hadn't even gotten inside of her yet. He would die before letting her go. If this was what loving a person when you shagged them did to you then he would be loving Hermione as long as he could; which he hoped would be forever. Good lays like this were hard to come by and great women like Hermione were even harder to find.

She slipped her knickers down her legs and kicked them off. They landed on the floor with the rest of her things but she didn't care. If things went her way then she wouldn't have a need for knickers or any kind of clothes for the next few days.

Draco kissed her forehead softly and met her gaze. "I love you."

Hermione's eyes watered a little but she refused to let them flood out. She lifted her head up to kiss him again and moaned into his lips. "I love you too, Draco."

He took his cock in his hand and rubbed it up against her dripping wet folds and relished at the sounds she made because of this. He was driving her mad and he knew it, but having the sticky clear liquid of her arousal on the top of his rock hard member was extremely satisfying. He placed it in the center and grounded it up against her nub a few times before letting it slip inside of her tight, wet core. Draco slid it in as much as possible, enjoying the best feeling he had ever experienced in his sexual lifetime. "Fucking hell, Hermione," he growled out. It was almost enough to make him release right then and there.

Hermione's finger nails were violently scratching his backside with each passionate thrust he gave. Her mouth was kept closed with her teeth subduing her lips, although her suppressed moans and deep throated grunts still filled the air like a symphony. Their bellies rubbing and the combination of his scent and hers created something incredibly mouthwatering. Hermione tightened her muscles every time he pushed inside of her and was rewarded with his head nuzzling into her neck and shoulder space while he pounded away. Their lovemaking was outstanding and addictive and Hermions didn't want it to end. At least she thought she felt that way before her walls began to convulse and she felt a little tingly all over.

Draco sensed that she was about to orgasm so he sped up his thrusts and grinded a little harder until he could feel his coming on too. Hermione bit his earlobe and wrapped her legs around his back. She arched hers as much as she could and shouted his name as they came simultaneously. His seed was spilling in her and he could feel the pressure of her orgasm building up but he pushed his cock in a few more times before pulling it out, watching in marvel as their combined liquids spilled onto his sheets.

Heemione was desperately trying to catch her breath but found that his trail of kisses on her neck were adding to her problem of breathlessness. They were both sweaty and immensely satisfied. He put a soft long kiss on her lips while cupping her cheek and smiling at her. The blush that graced her features was almost as enjoyable as making her cum with him.

"You are positively sensational," he breathed out as he collapsed on the bed.

"I could say the same thing about you." She rested her hand on his chest after he rested his body next to hers. "I'm so happy."

Draco groaned and put his hand on too of hers then closed his eyes. "Don't ever leave me."

She sighed deeply and relaxed as sleep started to consume her as well. "I don't ever plan to."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

"Are you worried about her?" Astoria was still in Paris, two days after pushing Hermione to Draco's side, and was keeping company with Stefan as he paced the floor in his bedroom and chewed off his fingernails.

Stefan muttered something unintelligible then rambled a little in his native tongue. Of course he was worried. Hermione's safety and happiness had always been his first concern ever since they were children. "I don't want anything to happen to her. She was hurting here and there was nothing I could do for her."

"Oh, but there was something you could have done, and you did it splendidly! You sent her on her way to fix what was broken in her. She can take care of herself, Stefan. You really shouldn't worry so much about it. You'll give yourself a panic shock and end up in St. Mungo's."

"I can't help it. It's always been like this," he grumbled.

"Even more incentive for you to relax, I say." She licked her lips and looked up at him. "Have you always been so overprotective of her?"

"It is not overprotective. I am just being cautious." He had stopped pacing but now he was tapping his foot rapidly.

"There is such a thing as being too cautious with a person and it's called being overprotective. Let her be her own person. Getting hurt and being heartbroken is a part of living! She's going to be just fine, I promise." His nervous ticks didn't stop there so she got up and took him by the shoulders. "You love her don't you?"

Stefan jerked away slightly. "Of course I love her! She's my sister."

Astoria shook her head. "Not biologically, she isn't. You're in love with her."

"No," he insisted. "No, I am not." He ran a hand though his dark brown curly locks and sighed heavily. "There was a time when I thought I was, though. It was a long time ago. I was eleven when I realized it and she was the only girl around me at home. I thought perhaps we would grow up and get married one day. It wasn't until much later that I realized that I could only ever be her big brother."

She felt a little sorry for him. It was almost like her and Draco. Astoria had fallen in love with him back when they were children and their closeness was what made their relationship impossible. Draco didn't see her as a woman just like Hermione never saw Stefan as a man. "So you grew up without a mother? It was just you and her and your father?"

He nodded and cleared his throat. "It was just us three. I was eight when she came to live with us because her parents had died. My mother was never in the picture, so before Hermione came along it was my father and I."

"What happened to her parents? And your mother?" It was none of her business but Astoria had always been a curious person.

"Her parents perished in a nasty car crash. They were almost unrecognizable because of the damage, or so I was told. She doesn't know this because father wished her not to know the circumstances. Why? I do not know. He was a very complicated man. I don't think I'll ever understand him. My mother didn't get him either, I don't think. He was always painting, always sculpting, always making something. I think he was more interested in his art than he was in actual people. He must not have paid her very much attention or been much help to her after I was born because she left him and me when I was only still an infant."

That was the most tragic thing Astoria had ever heard. She had been lucky enough to grow up in a household with two parents who showed her and her sister just the right amount of attention. "Do you know where she is? Have you ever spoken to her?"

"My mother? No, no of course not. I have only ever seen a picture of her." He pulled out a wallet sized wizard's photograph out of his dresser drawer and gave it to her. "Her name is Corina, or it was. I have no idea how alive she is right now."

The woman in the photo was gorgeous; too fair and charming to not be some kind of royalty. Her hair was a golden blonde and her eyes were see through blue, almost like glass. Her cheeks were plump but not overly so. And she wore a smile, showing off her perfectly pearly white teeth. She was the epitome of a beautiful woman. Astoria was envious of her on several levels. She appeared to have no flaws and looked as if an artist had made her.

It was clear to her now that Stefan had some abandonment issues. His mother never gave raising him a chance, his father was dead, and the girl he was once in love with whom he had come to know as his sister was out with another man. It was enough to drive anyone neurotic. "Stefan?"

"What is it?"

"I think we may just be the perfect pair," she said, as she put the picture down and claimed his lips in a spirited kiss.

He didn't push away, but instead rested his arms on her backside. He had forgotten all worries about Hermione and focused on the girl in front of him whose lips tasted sinfully delicious.

* * *

Everything on his bed was so damn cozy. The sheets were always warm, the pillows were always round and soft, and the feel of his body heat next to hers was the best part. Hermione didn't want to leave. Two days had gone by and she was still in his house, spending most of her time in his bedroom.

Earlier, she took a hot bath in his giant tub and admired the loveliness of his bathroom, the size of which made her won bathroom feel like a broom closet. She felt clean and refreshed and relaxed, and most of all extremely happy. Being with Draco left a permanent smile on her face, one she didn't mind having at all.

When he slipped back into bed with a tray of food for the two of them she exclaimed mirthfully.

"You are too good to me," she gushed.

"Well I have a lot of making up to do, don't I?"

"Quite right, you do," she agreed. Hermione took a bite and fell in love with the delicate taste. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

Draco chuckled and swallowed what was in his mouth. "I didn't make this, love. I'm just the deliverer."

Hermione paused for a moment and chewed a little slower. "Oh."

"Oh?"

"It's nothing really," she assured him. There were times when she forgot just how wealthy he was because he was such a gentleman and he didn't act like the world belonged to him like other rich people did. Being an art dealer in the Wizarding world meant she saw plenty of overly wealthy people who thought they could buy whatever they wanted and own anything they set their eyes on. Draco was modest to an extent and that was both a welcoming and a refreshing change of pace. What wasn't different about his financial status was his ownership of house elves. She didn't think it was very fair that an arrangement of servitude should go that way. Especially when she'd seen some of the most polite witches and wizards boss their elves around like they were the scum of the earth. "So are you... nice to them?"

"Nice to whom?"

"The elves, Draco. Are you nice?" She was begging to know. It made her a little too uncomfortable to enjoy the fruits if their labor if they were being screamed at all the time.

"What elves?"

She sighed in an exasperated manner. "The house elves, Draco!" she shouted.

"Hermione, I don't own any house elves! Calm down already, would you?"

"What?"

"I don't have house elves."

She was confused and it showed on her face quite plainly. "What do you mean by that?"

"My mother owns them. I'm the heir to this family's name but I'm not in charge of anything yet," he explained slowly, terribly glad that she had lowered her voice.

"So... so when you are 'in charge' will you have them?" She was hesitant to ask but she simply had to know.

"Presumably so, yes."

"And will you treat them well?"

She was so cute. "If you want me to. I don't see why I shouldn't."

Hermione grinned and leaned into his body. "If you didn't do it and you don't have elves, then who made this food?" she asked bewildered.

Draco laughed and kissed the side of her head. "I have human servants. Don't worry, I pay them well enough that they don't complain when I shout at them."

"Well it's great. Tell them that I'm grateful for it."

"No problem. Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?" She sipped her juice and trailed her finger along the length of his arm.

"How long will you be in London?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

Hermione smiled back and twirled her finger in the palm of his hand. "How long do you want me to be in London, Draco?" she said, mimicking him.

"I want you to be here forever," he said rather seriously. "Think you could arrange that?" He lifted her hand up and kissed each of her knuckles.

She giggled. "I can't stay here forever. I have to go back sometime."

"Oh, come on. Who says you have to go back?"

"Someone's got to run Papa's gallery!"

"We'll who's running it right now? You've been here for two days."

Hermione scoffed. "I hired a couple of interns but I have to relieve them at some point. They aren't exactly experts yet."

"So hire a manager! Hermione, what's it going to take for me to convince you? I want you to stay here with me."

"Forever?" she asked skeptically.

"Yeah, forever."

"Why?"

"You really have to ask?" He rubbed his hand over his face when she nodded. "I don't ever want to lose you again."

It was sweet and what every woman wanted to hear from her boyfriend, but his timing was awful. "Draco, I... I can't. I have obligations. It's bad enough I haven't been to work in two weeks because I was sulking in my room over you."

There was that guilty pang. "You could deal art here in London."

He presented a valid point. She could sell art anywhere. "It's not a good time for me to change locations, Draco. And this is all so very new, I just can't –"

"Would you at least think about it?"

His tone was hopeful and pleading. She couldn't believe he was the one begging her to make a commitment. If this didn't prove how serious he was about her then nothing else would. The only problem was that she just wasn't there yet. She still found trusting him to be a little difficult. "I... I can promise you that I'll think about it." She leaned her head up and let him kiss her. If this was going to work, things were going to have to be taken one day at a time.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Hermione left Draco's after another two days. When she returned, she was more than grateful to be at her own home. She hasn't realized how much she missed it until she came back. It wasn't as luxurious as Draco's place but it was the house she grew up in and it was good enough for the meantime.

She trudged through the door, closed her eyes and inhaled the aroma of her home: paint and clay mixed with vanilla. When she opened them, she found there was a girl standing in her kitchen, wearing a button down shirt that did not belong to her and not much else. The socks on her feet were rolled up her legs as high as possible and her hair was disheveled to a ridiculous degree. Upon closer examination Hermione realized that this was the same girl that she found in Draco's hotel room and the same girl who wanted her to make up with him. To see her half naked in her kitchen, wearing what she assumed to be her brother's clothes was more than a bit of a shock.

"Hi," the girl said awkwardly.

"Erm, hi there. I'm sorry... I never actually got your name." Hermione was trying as hard as she could to act like this wasn't the most mortifying thing that had ever happened to her but it was proving difficult.

"It's Astoria. Astoria Greengrass. I was just going to fix Stevie and I something to eat, actually."

Stevie? She was calling him Stevie? Seriously? It was enough to make her want to vomit right then and there. His brother had never had much of a preference when it came to the women he dated but this one was going to send Hermione to an early grave. Stevie? How completely tacky. Pet names creeped her out beyond all reason. "Right. Er, have you been here for the past four days?"

Astoria nodded slowly and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "We, that is to say, Stevie and I hit it off after you left."

"I see," she said, more stiffly than she meant to.

"I take it you and Draco have made up?"

"We have." Hermione no longer wished to be a part of the conversation so she just walked away and headed straight for her brother's room. She knocked out of respect and in case he wasn't wearing any clothes, and was answered after a moment or two. "Oh, hello Stevie," she mocked. "Have fun this week, did you?" She slid past him and moved into his room.

Stefan shut the door and walked over to her with his arms crossed. "I could ask you the same thing! You were gone for four days. Quatre jours Hermione! I was starting to think you would not return."

"I seriously considered not returning! Had I known that you were shacking up with a Stepford wife than I would have stayed with Draco," she spat out.

"Oh, ho ho. Now you are being hypocritical. What is wrong with me, a grown man, being with her, a grown woman eh?"

"That's besides the point, Stefan! I would have liked to know you were seeing her. It's not as if I enjoy coming into my own home to see a girl half bare in my kitchen!" She wasn't really all that angry with him but it was too late to back down now. "You've never had a habit of letting girls spending the night here before, let alone half a week here."

Stefan scoffed and turned away from her. "It was not planned, sister dear. We had a connection. I didn't start seeing her until after you left."

Hermione groaned in frustration and made her way towards his door. "This is so not ideal, Stefan. How much longer will she be here?" She asked as she tapped her foot.

He shrugged. "Who knows. She is comfortable and I like having her here. She might just move in permanently if I ask her to."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She thought of retorting but thought better of it. They were all adults now after all. There was no reason for them not to be together and Hermione couldn't tell him what to do. If he wanted to move her in that was fine. Other living arrangements had been presented to her and if things in Paris became too unbearable then she would leave. Most people left home at an age younger than hers anyway. Most women were already thinking of starting families by her age. "Fine," she said shortly. "You're old enough to make your own decisions. I can't force you to do anything you don't want to."

"That's right, you can't," he said warily. She was taking this rather well considering how much of a control freak she was. It was starting to freak him out.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said as she shut his door abruptly.

* * *

Hermione settled back into her room and set up her easel. Fighting with her brother was always enough inspiration for her. Now she was going to paint the one portrait that she'd been avoiding for the last couple of months.

While she readied her supplies she thought of her last conversation with Draco. He had asked her if she ever intended on telling Blaise that his version of Stream was just a copy. It was a fair question to which her answer had been no. He would never find out anyway. There was no use in fanning an already burning fire. He had given her the money that Blaise had paid him and she was still unsure of what she wanted to do with it. Stefan was out of work but the proceeds from the gallery went right into their family vault at Gringotts. She thought about donating it to charity but that option wasn't a very favorable one. In the end, she had settled with giving some to her alma mater, Beauxbatons, and some to Draco's alma mater, a school called Hogwarts. The rest she figured she could keep. It was her hard work after all.

Her first step was to acquire her papa's wand. It was the norm that when a wizard died his wand be buried with him, but since he had stated in his will that he didn't want that and since they would need his wand to copy the art he made with it, that hadn't been the case.

She pulled it out of her top drawer and admired it with great care. Now that she had his wand, her next step was to enchant the canvas and her utensils she would use to make the portrait. Finally, she began to sketch the backdrop, and worked tirelessly until her work of art was finished. It was just past breakfast time. If she worked through the day until after dinner then she would be done before midnight. Her memory was still very fresh so she doubted it would even take that long. When she was done she decided that it would hang here in the house and that it would stay there forever.


	20. Epilogue

Epilogue

Astoria Greengrass had been staying at the Allemande household and found it quite comfortable. She enjoyed it so much in fact, that she had been there for a solid two months. Her and Stefan had become all too inseparable and the love they felt for each other radiated off of their bodies. It also radiated through the walls, which Hermione could hear through and hated them each night because of it.

Their constant love making was putting her on edge. It was bad enough that she had to suffer Astoria's tacky presence in her own house in the first place, but it was even worse that she had to hear her presence after the sun went down and the lights went out. It made living there borderline impossible. She had resolved, however, to do herself a favor and make a pro/con list about Draco's offer.

He wanted them to be together and for her to move so that it would be easier. What's more was that he wanted them to live together. That part didn't seem so scary. She had been living with men her entire life and she rather liked Draco. He thought she was like an untouched gem: precious. If she took him up on his proposal then she would finally get some peace and quiet, she could take advantage of the location change and let it become her artistic muse, and she would have a whole new client base. She might even be able to sell her own art there. If she stayed here she would inevitably go bonkers. That was the only con she could think of and it was on her list of reasons to stay in Paris.

Hermione had seen Draco four times since their little extended slumber party. She had been so busy with work these days that she hardly had time to see him. Most of her time consisted of making copies of her papa's work then displaying it in the gallery. she had kept a couple of the interns she had hired to sell them for her since the demand for Ariadne pieces had gone up in Europe and some parts of Asia. She was exhausted. When she did see him it was when he came over on the weekends and whisked her away to a Parisian hotel suite, where they would try to reduce her massive stress level with waves of both passionate love making and hot sex. The room service was an added bonus. There was the time he'd forced her to take the day off for her birthday and they had spent the day in Greece, but that was over a month ago.

Her plan was to finish this last day and then she would promote one of her interns to management, cut all ties she had to the gallery, pack her bags and start a new life in London with Draco. Home didn't feel like home to her anymore ever since the Astoria invasion and she was much more comfortable when she was with him.

The only good thing about being at home was the joy she felt knowing that Astoria was too shy to walk around the house sans proper clothing. About a month ago, Hermione had put one memorial portrait of Papa Louis in the kitchen, one in the den, and another in the hallway upstairs. That way, he could travel throughout the house and Astoria would not dare leaving Stefan's room if she wasn't completely decent. Permanent sticking charms held them where they were so that no one could ever move them. Stefan had been sour about her mischievous little tactic but he got over it when she claimed in fake tears that he didn't care about their deceased father. It was a win-win for everyone; everyone being Hermione and Papa Louis, who had no reservations about seeing a vivacious young lady in his house. That fact only made Astoria that much more cautious about how she acted while she was out and about. Hermione had hoped that putting papa all over would have been enough to drive her out but she took the win with a smile regardless. She was moving out soon anyway. When she got settled in at Draco's place she would put a spot for papa to visit her there as well.

* * *

"So you really are going?" Stefan asked for the third time.

Hermione's suitcases were packed and her room was stripped bare. There was no sign that anyone used to occupy the space. "Yes. For the millionth time, I am leaving. You and Astoria could probably use the extra space anyhow."

He scrunched up his face in confusion. "Why would we need the extra space? Hermione, I see no reason why you have to go."

"Isn't she pregnant?"

"What? Of course not. We are extra careful in that aspect."

"Whatever."

"Hermione, please?"

"Please what, Stefan? I'm twenty five years old now. It's time for me to fly the coop. I don't want to live here forever with you and your little girlfriend."

He chuckled and wagged his finger. "So that's what this is about? She makes you uncomfortable." He knew in the back of his mind that Hermione had no desire to be involved with Astoria in any way. What he didn't know was why that was. "You have had a distaste for her ever since you came back from your English excursion with him. What has he told you about her?"

"Get over yourself. Draco doesn't give two craps about who she dates or shags and neither do I. I'm leaving because I want to. I told you that I wouldn't always be around to take care of you. Now you have Astoria. You don't even need me anymore." Astoria had shared with Hermione her suspicion that Stefan had abandonment issues and at first Hermione thought it was a laugh. Now she figured that it all made perfect sense. He never wanted her dating in the past and she supposed that the reason was because he would feel left out if she started seeing people and spending more time out of the house. That, and the fact that he was an overprotective git had ruined her teenage social life while they were in school. He didn't know his mother well either. Of course it was mommy issues. "Look, I'll visit. I promise. But I have no desire to live here anymore. Siblings don't grow old together in the same house, Stefan."

"Fine," he said bitterly. "Go. At least now I don't have to hear your complaints about what I do in my bedroom at night."

Hermione shuddered but hugged him nevertheless. "You were a real prat sometimes in the past but I'm so glad you're my brother."

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her lovingly. "Moi aussi mon sœur." He let her go and smiled at her. "I'm holding you to that visit."

She backed away and waved. "I'll miss you!" she said before disapperating with all her things in tow.

Stefan still waved even after she was gone. "Moi aussi mon sœur."

* * *

Things were going well for Draco and Hermione. Only two weeks had passed after her move when her career had sky rocketed. She was popular as an artist; the new kid on the block. Her "stage name" was Louise and all the Wizarding families in London had turned it into a household name. A month later she had procured enough money to open her own gallery and filled it with all of her creations.

Draco, on the other hand, had mastered the art of seducing his critically acclaimed and artistically talented girlfriend. They made love almost every night and she loved it more and more each time they did it. He was pleased that she had found happiness with him and he even let her coax him into posing for him. Sculpting had become one of her new favorite hobbies as she always used him as a nude model, per his request.

"How much longer do you think you'll be?" he asked anxiously.

Hermione smirked and grabbed more clay for the section she was working on. He had begged her to let him be naked for her new piece and now that he was starting to see the negative effects of posing without clothes, she relished in her victory. She knew it was going to be a bad idea but now that she'd started she had to finish. "It'll take a bit longer, Draco. Why? Is something the matter?" she asked, already knowing what his problem was.

"Well, it's a bit cold, isn't it? It wouldn't exactly be accurate to portray my member as flaccid. That wouldn't be fair either." It was the end of September and he had been shivering for the past twenty minutes. They were in the art studio he'd had built on in his house and the insulation was terrible compared to that of the rest of the house. "Can't I take a break? Or better yet, if your finished with my privates I can put on a pair of trousers and then you can start my torso, in all its abdomen-like and muscular pectoral filled glory."

She rolled her eyes and kept working. His ego made and appearance on a daily basis. She didn't mind it much as he did have plenty to brag about when it came to his sexy bod. Plus, he made up for his big head while they were in the bedroom and he was pleasing her with his big head. "You can't move. It's for the sake of the place I'm in now. If I screw up here then I have to start all over. Just be patient for little longer and I can find a spot to pause and resume it later. You have to be in the complete nude until I get to your lower stomach."

"I seriously regret this," he said plainly. "I thought you would finish it in ten minutes and then we would shag once you were done. We could do it right here on the floor and I could splatter paint all over the ground, and we could roll all around in it and make something artsy while we shag. Then, we would do it again in the shower and you could hang our picture on the wall in the guest room."

"We can still do all that," she smiled slyly. "Just give me another few minutes. I don't want to stop here. It'll be too hard to pick it up later if I don't continue. Besides, you shouldn't regret it. It's going to be a lovely sculpture." He was naked so her view of things were pretty great. Not to mention that it was kind of hilarious watching him be so uncomfortable. He was trying very hard not to move, which was commendable, but she could tell his arms were getting tired. "I wish you would have let me body bind you so that you wouldn't move so much," she complained for the third time.

"I told you before that's not happening. You freeze me while I'm like this and who knows what you'll do?"

Hermione acted mock shocked. "Don't you trust me, Draco? Surely you know I have your best interests at heart. I would never do anything to you that you wouldn't like," she said with a wink. "I like you too much." She pressed her thumb along the thigh of the sculpture and redirected some of the clay until she was satisfied with how it looked. "There," she sighed. "You can relax now. We'll take a break and do more later, or in the morning if you prefer."

Draco stretched his arms out above his head and looked over at his girlfriend. She looked so cute in her little smock and there was a bit of clay on her forehead. "Thank Merlin that's done with for now." He watched transfixed as she licked her bottom lip and observed her work, and he could feel the blood rushing to his penis. Just her standing there turned him on. He waltzed over to her and picked her up bridal style.

She squealed for a second as he lifted her but let it happen. His sexual agenda always found a way into their completely non-consistent routine. "I thought we were splattering paint all over the floor and shagging in it."

"Bugger the paint. It's a mess I don't want to clean right now. Change of plans; we're going to the shower right now," he proclaimed as he kissed her up and down her neckline.

She giggled as he spoiled her with affection. These were the only circumstances in which he was allowed to boss her around. She didn't mind it the least bit as long as it was sex chat. His masculinity was such a huge turn on, and this time he was already naked.

When she thought back on the last few months she realized how lucky she was now and just how very different things were compared to her old lifestyle. She was glad that he had tried to essentially steal from her otherwise they never would have met, and she would probably still be grieving her papa and having shouting matches with Stefan every other day. Everything had turned out great and she wouldn't trade what she had for the world. She knew that much was true for Draco as well. Hermione loved him. That fact would never have come to be if not for a certain great work of art.

_Fin._


	21. News

This story is getting published on and under the same name probably within the next month. It's an original plot that I made all by myself so all that's going to change is the magic stuff and the character names since that stuff belongs to JK Rowling. Some things in plot will have to change as well considering that most conversations including magic and anything in the Harry Potter universe will have to be changed since I don't want to be sued. So if you see a story by L.B. Sutherland up there and it's got my title, don't worry that's just my other pen name.

also I'd like to point out that

1) no this story isn't belong deleted. Like I said, it's being published.

2) disclaimers are not necessary because no money is made from fan fiction. You can write as much fan fiction as you want as long as you don't make any money from it you don't have to post a disclaimer. Since there's no way to make money off of no disclaimers are necessary. The whole website is A disclaimer.

3) I am NOT a girl for the last time. Sorry about the typos, grammatical errors and typos aren't the same thing many of u seem to think they are, but I wrote this story on my phone while my computer was out of commission. It's fixed now aDDR the edited published version will have no "errors" to speak of.


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